
tr 



:ss . J 

Book 



PRESENTED BY 



/3/ 

SELECT ESSAYS, 



DOCTRINAL & PRACTICAL, u u 3 

ON A VARIETY OF THE 



MOST IMPORTANT AND INTERESTING 
SUBJECTS IN DIVINITY. 

TOGETHER WITH 

A SERMON, 

On the great mailer and end of gospel 
Preaching. 

BY TFE REV. WILLIAM M'EWEN, 

Late minister of the gospel in Dundee. 



FIRST AMERICAN 
FROM THE SIXTH LONDON EDITION;. 



SALEM, N. t« 

PUBLISHED BY J. STEVENSON, Jr. 
At the Salem Book-Store. 

J. P. REYNOLDS, PRINTER, 

1814* 






5? 



CONTENTS. 



TITLES OF THE ESSAYS. 



Page 
The great evil of sin 1 3 
On man's misery by sin 16 
On the inevitable misery of 

the wicked 21 

On Christ's dying instead 

of sinners, to make a 
full satisfactionfor their 

transgressions 24 

On the union betwixt Christ 

and believers 28 

N/O/i trusting in God 32 

(On trusting in Christ 35 

~~On imitating Christ 35 

^Onfaith 39 

On forgiveness of sin, 

throughfaith in Christ's 

divine blood 43 

On evangelical repentance 

for sin 47 

On hungering and thirst- 
ing for righteousness 50 
On purity of heart 52 

On holiness ; its nature, 

excellency, & necessity 54 
On peace of conscience 58 
On joy in the Holy Ghosi 60 
On pleasure 62 

On affliction & consolation 65 
On looking on things that 

are not seen 69 

On christian hope 71 

On the vain hopes of the 

hypocrite 



Pag& 

The character of a hypo- 
crite 75 

The character of a sincere 
christian 7 7 

On christian prudence 79 

In christian diligence 81 

On slothf ulness ; or, the 
christian stirred up to 
diligence and activity 83 

On the improvement cf 
time 8G 

The superior and distin- 
guishing advantages cf 
the christian in this life 8$ 

On the certainty of the 
christian 's perseverance 
in his happy state 90 

On assurance of present 
and future happiness 93 

In death 95 

On the resurrection 93. 

On the resurrection and 
judgment 102 

On the misery of the 
damned 104 

On the happiness cf hea- 
ven 10 7? 

On the manifestation cf 
the So?i of God in hu- 
man flesh 112 

On Christ laid in the 
'eraoe 1 26 



TITLES OS tfHE ESSAYfe 



Pagf j 
Oft Christ rising out of 

ike grave 128 

On Christ compared to the 

sun 12P 

0/2 Christ comparing him- 
self to the rose of Sha- 
ron, and the lily of the 
vallies 133 

On walking in the Spi- 
rit 13 e 
On a godly man 130 
Delight in God 139 
Reverence and godly fear 1 42 
On self denial 144 
Oft humility 146 
Oft meekness 1 49 
0/2 &g merciful man 1 52 
Oft tenderness of heart 155 
0*t gratitude 157 
Oft resignation 1 60 
Oft patience 1 62 
On fortitude 1S4 
Oft contentment 166 
0?i contempt of the world 1 69 
Oft (fee pursuit cf real 

riches 171 

Oft aft ingenuous and free 

spirit 1 73 

Oft sincerity and truth 1 75 
On temperance 177 

Ti^ harmmy cf the di- 
vine attributes ; or, the 
council of peace 180 

Oft stedfastness 183 

Oft *taJ 185 

0« religidiis strictness 18* 



Page 
Oft tfie religious worship- 
per 190 
Oft hearing the word 1 92 
Oft meditation 195 
0/1 singing of praise 197 
On prayer 190 
Oft mourning and fast- 
ing 202 
Oft £/ie sacrament of the 

supper 204 

Oft fita divine institution 

of the sabbath day 200 
Oft £/i£ benrfit of ordinan- 
ces 212 
Oft £&€ excellency of Chris- 
tianity 214 
Oft the high privilege of 

adoption 2 1 T 

77t£ complaint 220 

T/te successful suppli- 
cant 222 
Oft watchfulness 223 
Oft gentleness 226 
T7ie natural slate of man- 
kind 220 
Oft immortality 229 
Tfo? &<?&/ scriptures 232 
Oft election 237 
Evidence of the truth of 

Christianity 239 

T&£ different states & ends 
of the righteous and 
wicked; a fragment 24 i 
TTta groat matter & end of 
gospel preaching ; ei 
sermon 24? 



MEMOIR 



OP THE 

AUTHOR'S LIFE AND CHARACTER. 



THE Rev. William M'Ewen, the worthy 
author of the following Essays, was descended from 
pious and respectable parents in the town of Perth, 
who spared neither pains nor expence to give him a 
truly christian and liberal education. To this they 
were greatly encouraged by the early attachment 
which he himself shewed, both to piety and learn- 
ing. 

His constitution of body was rather delicate and 
weakly; though in common he was tolerably healthy; 
but his intellectual powers were sound and strong. — 
He had a penetrating and comprehensive mind ; a 
fine perception ; and an elegant taste. These happy 
talents were attended with solidity of judgment, and a 
sense of the truly Beautiful and sublime, peculiar to 
himself ; and still farther heightened, by an imagina- 
tion and invention equally lively, and a memory un- 
commonly capacious -and retentive. 

To cultivate and improve these admirable natu- 
ral endowments, he employed the most assiduous 
care, and unwearied industry. By his diligent study 
of the Roman and Greek classics ; of logic and philo- 
sophy ; of the best English poets and historians : and, 
above all, the scriptures of truth, in their originals, 
with the most judicious and evangelical books of our 
own and foreign divines ; he collected a large stock 
of the best ideas, and enriched his mind with a varie- 
ty of select knowledge, and suitable literature. 

a 2 



6 

His studies in divinity were assisted for some 
years by the advice of the late celebrated Mr. Ebene- 
jzer Erskine of Stirling; and finished under the tuition 
of the Rev. James Fisher of Glasgow. 

He was in 1753 licensed to preach the gospel by 
•the associate presbytery of Dunfermline ; and, in the 
beginning of the year 1754, he was ordained, by the 
same presbytery, minister of the associate congrega- 
tsiofl in the town of Dundee. 

Having, in a solemn and public manner, devoted 
himself to the more immediate service of the blessed 
Jesus, in the ministration of his gospel, and had the 
charge of a particular flock committed to him ; he was 
earnestly desirous to have them grounded in the prin- 
ciples, and actuated by the •true spirit of Christ's gos- 
pel. Entirely satisfied, that the scriptural plan of re- 
demption, by the blood of Christ, is divinely calcula- 
ted to draw men's affections from iniquity, and attach 
thein to the blessed God ; to sweeten their tempers > 
and form them to true happiness ; it was his daily en- 
deavor, by the most easy and engaging methods of in- 
struction, to fill their minds with the knowledge oiT 
these heavenly doctrines. He longed particularly to 
have a lively sense of God Almighty's goodness, ma- 
nifested in freely offering pardon and peace to rebell- 
ious sinners in the gospel, impressed on their souls j 
fcecause, from this source, and* the influences of the 
sanctifying Spirit, he was persuaded, that all the noble 
qualities, the amiable graces, and the important duties* 
which constitute the dignity or the happiness of ou$ 
nature, could only be derived. 

Far from addressing his hearers in that flat tec* 
d dangerous strain, which supposes the power* 
human mind to be as perfect as ever; or but vi- 
in a small degree ; or, that the soul of man is 
ised of such principles of virtue, as need only to 
sed into action; he was solicitously concerned 
ve them thoroughly convinced, that they were 
fnt, guilty, impotent creatures. That from suck 
;tioii3 they might perceive their imlispensible 



•7 

seed of a Savior ; of a Savior in all his mediatorial 
offices ; as a prophet to instruct them, and, by hi» 
word and spirit, make them wise unto salvation ; as a 
priest to make an atonement and expiation (or their 
sins, and make their persons acceptable to that awful 
Majesty, who dwelleth in light inaceessalle ; as a 
king to subdue their iniquities, to write his laws in 
their hearts, make them partakers of a divine nature, 
and enable them to deny ungodliness and worldly lusts, 
and to Hue soberly, righteously and godly in this present 
world, Tit. ii, 12. 

In fine, the point he cheirly labored, was, to be- 
get in his people's minds a deep, and abiding sense, 
that God was their chief good ; their only sufficient 
happiness and portion : that the blessed Jesus was the 
foundation of their pardon, acceptance, and salvation: 
that all their dependence, for acquiringjjiie beauties of 
holiness, and tasting the consolations and pleasures of 
a religious life, was to be placed in the Holy Ghost, 
the Comforter; whose office is to take the things of 
Christ, and shew thrmto sinful -mm 3 John xvi. 14; and 
to srivc them to know things thai arc freely given to iiicm 
rfGod, 1 Cor. ii. 12. 

Our author's talent of preaching was much ad- 
mired. The propositions he insisted on were few ; 
but always of very weighty and edifying import, and 
naturally resulting from the passage of sacred writ un- 
der immediate consideration. His explanations were 
clear and accurate ; his proofs plain and decisive; his 
illustrations beautiful and entertaining ; his applica- 
tions close and searching. All the heads of the dis- 
course remarkably distinct, yet connected in such re- 
gular order, and in such pleasing succession, as gave 
his instructions the greatest advantage : and every 
part contributed to the strength and beauty of the 
whole. 

And indeed such wa3 the depth of his thoughts; 
such the propriety o ; his words ; and such the variety i 
force and fire of bis style ; so remarkable ivas thejnst- 
gess and solidity of his reasoning, and so Judicious Ike 



8 

change of his method; that notwithstanding he inva- 
riably pursued the some end; yetgpjroceeding by dif- 
ferent paths, and varying his address, according as he 
meant to alarm, to convince, or comfort ; he was so 
far from growing tedious, that he never failed to please 
as well as to improve his audience. 

In imitation of the great apostle of the Gentiles, 
that most amiable and accomplished preacher, he was 
peculiarly careful to cultivate a spirit of zeal and de- 
votion in all his discourses. Accordingly, he was fer- 
vent in spirit, as well as cogent in argument. When 
he argued, conviction flashed; when he exhorted, pa~ 
thos glowed. And by distributing to each of his au- 
dience a portion suitable to their several states, he en- 
deavored rightly to divide the word of truth. 

The same zeal and fervor which influenced and 
animated his public addressee from the pulpit, appear- 
ed also in the discharge of the much neglected duties 
of catechising; teaching from house to house; and 
visiting the sick ; as well as in the administration of 
the holy sacraniejii&. 

In the most unaffected devotion towards God ? 
and in a diffusive love to all men ; in modest}', hu- 
mility, and candor ; in a gravity of deportment, tem- 
pered with becoming cheerfulness ; in purity of man- 
ners, and integrity of conduct, Mr. M'Ewen was a 
pattern to all around him. Bis hearers had abundant 
reason afforded them to believe that he lived above 
this sordid world, even while he was in it : that he 
was no iover of filthy lucre ; no hunter of carnal pleas- 
ures ; but that his hopes, and all his views of happi- 
ness, were hid with Christ in God: that he directed 
ali his aims to the glory of God ; and considered the 
honor of Jesus Christ as the final cause of his exist- 
ence; that he carried on no base and sinister design ; 
that he had no separate interest from the glory of his 
divine master, and the welfare of his peo le ; but that 
the whole desire and delight of his soul, was to set for- 
ward their salvation; that by their being mad m- t to 
be partakers of the inheritance of thl saints in light, his 



exalted Lord might see of the travail of his soul, and be 
satisfied. 

On the 29th of December 1761, he came from 
Dundee to Edinburgh ; and, on Sabbath following, 
preached (his last sermon) in Bristo meeting, from 
Isa. Ixiii. 4. For the day of vengeance is in mine heart, 
and the year of my redeemed is come. — On the Monday 
evening, he was married at Dalkeith, to the oldest 
daughter of Mr. John Wardlaw, late merchant of the 
same place. In this important period of his life, when 
a variety of temporary prospects ingross the attention 
of the most part of mankind, it was observed, that, in 
his social intercourses with his friends, he discovered 
a strong inclination to fix the conversation to that 
awful, yet delightful subject, the eternal world, into 
which all must soon enter. Like one established in 
the faith, he seemed daily to be looking for, and hasten- 
ing to the coming of the Lord Jesus. 

On Wednesday afternoon, attended by his friends, 
he went to Leith, in his way home to Dundee ; and 
that same night he was suddenly taken ill, owing as is 
supposed, to the cold and wet he had suffered in his 
crossing the Frith the preceding week. His disorder 
soon issued in a violent fever, which rendered him un- 
fit for any conversation, and on Wednesday night, the 
13th of January 1762, put an end to all his labors, in 
the 28th year of his age, and 7th of his ministry. Cut- 
down in the prime of life, and public usefulness, hi© 
death was universally lamented as a severe and afflic- 
ting Joss to his friends, his congregation, and the 
church of God. His body w r as interred in the. church 
yard of Dalkeith. 

In December 1758, he published a sermon deli- 
vered at the ordination of the Rev. Alexander Dick,, 
in Aberdeen, entitled, The great matter and end efges- 
pel preachings from 2 Cor. iv, 5. This discourse was 
reprinted in 1764, and has been much esteemed by Hie 
best judges, on account of the clear evangelical str in 
of doctrine, together with the nervous and '-Hr 
manner of address, which runs through the whole of 
Itv — It has now undergone five impressions. 



10 

In 1763, his meditations on the types and figured 
of the Old Testament tvere published in a neat vo- 
lume 12mo. The favorable reception which this 

piece met with from the public, shews, in a much 
stronger light, the distinguishing excellency of it, than 
any thing else that could be advanced. Five editions 
of this work having been already sold, and the demand 
for it still continues. 

With regard to the following sheets, they con- 
tain the substance of what the author originally com- 
posed and delivered in the pulpit, in the form of ser- 
mons. His heart, his time, his study, were entirely 
devoted to the duties of his profession. To contract 
the force and spirit of a subject into a small compass, 
and to exhibit it to the mind in one clear and easy 
riew, was a study he was remarkably fond of. And 
though he prepared his discourses for the pulpit with 
great diligence and accuracy, he frequently employed 
a leisure moment in digesting them, after they had 
been preached, into the form of little Essays. 

From his collection of manuscripts in this kind, 
fhe following Essays were selected. Each of them 
was committed to paper at one sitting, without any 
design of publishing them ; and none of them appear 
to have been written over again, or revised by the 
author. It should not then be thought strange, if, in 
*ome things, they will not hear a critical examen with 
regard to the minutice of graceful composition. More 
important matters engaged Mr. M'Ewen's attention; 
nor was fame, as a writer, by any means his aim. 

But it is hoped the reader, who peruses them with 
the humble child like spirit of a christian, and seek* 
religious advantage in all he reads, will not lose his 
labor. He will find a just and lively representation 
of true Christianity, in a variety of its most important 
articles, and distinguishing peculiarities, enforced by 
a very warm and pathetic mode of expression, happily 
conspiring at once to enlighten the understanding and 
persuade the he;rt. Apparent repetitions will doubt- 
less sometimes occur ; bfct Ibis will be ^hiellviu those 



11 

tilings which lie at the root of all vital religion, and 
evidently lay very near the author's heart ; which is 
rery different from that thin starvling common-place 
work that flows from a barren head, or unfeeling heart. 
As these Essays were the first effusion of thought, 
they ought to be considered rather as the production 
of the heart, than the head, which, it is hoped, will be 
no disagreeable recommendation of them to the sober 
christian. — From a few cursory specimens, the reader 
could form no adequate idea of a work replete with 
such a vast variety of important subjects ; and, there- 
fore, I have only to add, that as no order has been ob- 
served in writing these sheets, I have not attempted 
to methodise their contents, or combine them into ft 
regular series. 



.'SELECT ESSAYS, &c. 



ON THE GREAT EVIL OF SIN. 

O SIN, thou only evil in Which there 
"is no good, thou superfluity of naughtiness, thou quin- 
tessence of what is odious and execrable, whose nature 
is entirely opposite to that of God, and the reverse of 
his holy law, who elaimest the devil for thy sire, while 
death, and hell, and misery, confess thee for their only 
parent ! how hast thou troubled all the creation ! up- 
on what creatures hast thou not transmitted thy bale- 
ful influence ! 

Ye angels of darkness, once the angels of light, 
how are ye fallen ! how changed ! how is your tine 
gold become dim ! what plucked you from your starry 
mansions, where you did walk with God, high in sal- 
vation, in the climes of bliss! you were the angels 
that sinned ; therefore yow could not keep your first 
and happy state, but were driven out from God, flung 
from eternal splendors to everlasting horrors. " The 
crown is fallen from your head ; wo un-to us, for you 
have sinned." 

Ye sons of men, once were you blessed with inno- 
cence and peace, in the morning of your existence, 
when our grand parents first lifted to the heavens their 
Svonderkig eyes, and reposed themselves in the bliss- 
ful bowers of paradise, ihat happy garden, planted by 

B 



14 

the Lord, and fitted out for their reception. TTie un« 
derstanding was bright as the light. The will, all 
pure and holy, reigned queen of the affections, and 
swayed them with a golden sceptre. The memory 
was faithful to his trust, being replenished only with 
good things. And, O how peaceful Was the conscience ! 
how serene ! nothing unholy was hatched in his heart, 
or uttered by the lips, or manifested by -the actions.— 
Disease had not invaded our body ; death would not 
have dissolved our frame. We should have been stran- 
gers to the miseries of life, and to the dreary mansions 
of the grave. But sin, that cursed monster, sin hath 
quenched our intellectual light ; hath inthralled the 
will to vile unruly passions ; hath vitiated the memo- 
ry, tenacious now of evil; hath banished true peace 
from the conscience. Some are harrassed with dire- 
ful apprehensions, and consumed away with fearful 
terrors. AVhat multitudes are stretched on the bed of 
pain ! it was sin which bade the head ache, fevers to 
revel through our veins, convulsions shake the human 
frames, and agues agitate our bodies. 

See there, in that house of mourning, the pale and 
ghastly corpse extended on the bed. Descend into the 
silent grave, and view the putrifying flesh, and the 
mouldering bones. Ah ! where are we ! to what are 
we reduced ? Is this that heaven-labored form, which 
wore the divine resemblance ? Yes, yes ; " sin enter- 
ed into the world, and death by sin ; and so death pas* 
sed upon all men, for that all have sinned." 

But can we venture lower still in our meditations, 
into those dismal regions, where God's mercies are 
clean gone, and where he will be favorable no more ? 
Hear how they shriek and roar ; see how they toss in 
the lake that burnetii with fire and brimstone ! — Un- 
happy beings, what brought you to that place of tor- 
ment? " We are filled with the fruit of our own ways, 
and are reaping the wages of sin.*' Yes ; it was sin 
which laid the foundation-stone of your prison, aud 
filled it with these inexbausted treasures of wrath and 
indignation. 



15 

Not in the rational creation only we discern flic* 
fatal evils of this accursed thing. " The whole crea- 
tion groaneth and travelleth in pain together until 
now." Once it died of a dropsy of waters, in the days 
of Noah ; and shortly will expire in a fever of flames, 
when u the heavens shall pass away with a great noise, 
and the elements shall melt with fervent heat." Even 
now the husbandman, conscious of the sickliness of 
nature, acts like physician to the earth. Sometimes 
he opens her veins with the plough, and covers with 
soil, as with a strengthening plaster; sometimes lays 
her asleep, by suffering her to lie fallow for a time. — 
Without these necessary precautions, she would re- 
fuse to yield her increase, and cleanness of teeth would 
be in all our borders. 

Is it a small thing for sin thus to affect the whole 
creation ? The garden of Gethsemane knows, and Cal- 
vary can tell, how sin hath affected even the great 
Creator. Bread of life, why wast thou hungry ? Foun- 
tain of life, why wast thou thirsty ? Why wast thou a 
man of sorrows, O thou Consolation of Israel ? Thou 
glory of the human race, wherefore wast thou a re- 
proach of men, and despised of the people ? Thy vi- 
sage was more marred than any man, and thy form 
than the sons of men. Sin nailed thee to the cross ; 
sin stabbed thee to the heart ; sin, like a thick impen- 
etrable cloud, eclipsed thy Father's countenance to 
thy disconsolate soul ; sin laid thee in a grave, O 
thou resurrection and the life ! 

Who would have believed, that the enemy would 
have entered within the gates of the heavenly Jerusa- 
lem, pulled angels from their thrones, and brought e- 
ven God himself from his high habitation, from excel- 
lent glory, from ineffable joys, to poverty and reproach, 
to sorrow and tribulation, and to the most inglorious 
death ! 

O heavy burden ! under whose weight such mul- 
titudes of creatures groan, which made the mighty 
God, clothed with our flesh, to sweat great drops of 
blood, though sinners walk lightly on beneath the 



16 

Blighty load. dreadful plague ! formidable sick- 
ness ! not to be chased ,away by a less costly medi- 
cine than the most precious blood of Christ, by whose 
stripes we are healed. O deadly poison ! even when 
presented in a golden cup, and sweet unto the taste, 
it biteth like a serpent, and stingeth like an adder, 
and never fails to prove bitterness in the latter end. — 
Nor can it be expelled by any other way than lifting 
up the Son of man, as Moses lifted up the serpent in ' 
the wilderness. O mighty debt, whose payments 
could impoverish him, whose is the silver and the gold; 
who, C£ though he was rich, yet for our sakes became: 
poor, that we through his poverty might be made 
rich:?" O ugly stain ! O inveterate pollution ! not to- 
be washed away by all the rivers that run into the sea. 
In vain we take unto us nitre and much soap ; in vain 
we use our most vigorous endeavors to purge away our 
blot, Sooner might the Ethiopian change his skin, 
and the leopard his spots. The only Fuller that is e- 
qu.al to this mighty work, is he who purges the con- 
science from dead works, to serve the living God. — 
The blood of the Lamb is the only purgatory that 
makes you whiter than the snow. 

When, O when, shall I hate thee with a perfect 
hatred, then worse than death ? When shall I be afraid 
of thee alone, and be ashamed of thee alone ? O thing 
exceeding sinful ! When shall I he delivered from 
thy abhorred dominion ? O when shall thy destructions, 
have a perpetual end ?. 



0«k maris extreme misery by sin. 

WHO can refrain from tears, whose eye of rea- 
son hath snatched but a cursory glance of mankind's 
numerous woes ? Who but he whose heart is made of 
fcicnerand is lost to every impression of benevolence ? 
As the dancing spark flies upward, so man is born un- 
to trouble. Unhappy creatures, that kept not your 



17 

primeval state ! Full early you revolted from your 
Creator God, in whose smile alone your happiness 
might dwell. The sparkling crown of innocence is 
fallen from your head. Hence all these fatal evils of 
your race. Ah me ! what ghastly spectres are these ! 
See moon-struck madness replenishing the melancholy 
bedlam, and torturing despair, a terror to herself, and 
all around her. See there oppression with iron hands, 
and heart of steel ; poverty with her hollow eyes, her 
tattered garments, and sordid habitation ; and all the 
family of pain, who tear the pillow from beneath their 
head, while sleep affrighted flies from our eye-iids. — 
Shall I mention in the next place, drudgery with her 
grievous looks, toiling at the oar, or stooping under 
the burden ? Alas ! with what laborious efforts do 
mortals spend their vitals, to gain a wretched suste- 
nance for themselves and their tender offspring, to be 
defended from the gna wings of hunger, and ihc power 
of chilling cold ? 

What creatures are not armed against thee, O 
man, who all espouse their Maker's quarrel ? There 
are, whom the angels of darkness harass with dreadful 
temptations, and still more dreadful possessions. — The 
angels of light loathe and detest such polluted beings, 
and frequently have been the executioners of direful 
vengeance. I might relate the numerous ills to which 
we are exposed from the inhabitants of the air, the 
beasts of the earth, and even the fishes of the sea. — 
How hateful to men the holiest race of scaly serpents, 
hissing adders, ravenous lions, prowling wolves, hi- 
deous and weeping crockadiles ? And even the puny 
race of locusts and caterpillars have scourged guilty 
nations for their crimes. 

How frequently have fire and water, these ser- 
viceable elements, made horrid insurrections, disas- 
trous to the human race ? Populous cities, with g ilt'e 
palaces and lofty temples, have smoked fiery ruins ; 
and, in old time, the dwellings of sinful men were 

swept away by a watery inundation. In vain the 

shrieking wretches betook themselves for safety to the 

b2 



m 

lofty battlements of houses, the tops of highest trees, 
or even the summits of the aerial mountains. Rear 
how the earth groans under the burden of thy sins ! 
Here she spreads a barren wilderness, and idle desert 9 
there lifts a frightful ridge of rocks, whence in many 
places we look down with giddy horror. In some 
countries she belches fire and smoke from dreadful 
volcanoes, tremendous indeed to all who hear, but 
much more terrible to those who live in the neighbo- 
ring city, or in the villages of the circumjacent plain. 
Be it so that these awful phenomena of nature, and 
others of like threatening aspect, bespeak not this our 
globe to be the habitation of an accursed race ; what 
shall we say to useless choking weeds^ and poisonous 
plants, of which she is a willing parent, whilst she 
refuses to produce the foodful grain, unless when 
much caressed and importuned ? How frequently she 
disappoints our fond hopes, and baulks our expecta- 
tions ! 

When she refuses to yield her increase, then it is 
we have cleanness of teeth in all our borders, while 
pale famine walks abroad with her evil arrows* The 
staff of bread is broken, and feeble man totters, and 
falls, and dies. — At other times she expands her jaws, 
and swallows up alive vast multitudes of rational be- 
ings. Earthquake ! men tremble when thou art but 
named !. Who can think of thee without horror ? O 
what dire consternation in that dreadful moment ! — • 
Whither, ah ! whither can we fly from the doleful ca- 
lamity ? Avert it, heaven. Execute not thy threaten- 
ed vengeance upon these guilty lands, and our proud 
metropolis. If thou hast a mind to punish us, O visit 
with some milder rod, some gentler minister of 
wrath. 

Not the earth alone, on which we tread, but the 
air in which we li'/e, aud move, and have our being, 
proves dreadful to our wretched race. Sometimes she 
summons her stormy winds, her roaring tempests, and 
bids them shake the walls of stone, and dash the wall- 
built vessel on the rock, Vain is the help of tough 



19 

cables and tenacious anchors. The mighty waters at 
once receive the valuable cargo, and the despairing 
mariners. How often is she infected with the wide- 
wasting pestilence ? Then death's shafts fiy thick, and 
. the hungry grave rejoices at the uncommon fare. — 
Yet, ugly monster ! she never says, it is enough. — ■ 
But, with no greater calamity can you be visited, ye 
sons of men, than those which claim your own spe- 
cies for their original. Fell are the monsters of the 
Lybian deserts ! but not to be compared with the ab- 
horred productions of the human heart. Hence match- 
less killing envy, filthy slander ; hence persecution 
with torturing engines, war with her odious din, and 
bloody garments. How can you have peace among 
yourselves, when warring with your God ? 

Nor is there any period of life wherein we are 
exempted from wo. Not even the smiling infant is 
secured against the most fatal disasters. The miseries 
ox childhood are apparent. Affliction spares not the 
blooming youth, nor reverences the venerable old man. 
Even age itself, what ia it ? An incurable distemper, 
always terminating in death. See how the counte- 
nance is shriveled up with wrinkles, the shoulders 
stoop, the hands tremble, the strong men bow them- 
selves^ and they that look out of the windows are 
darkened ! 

Neither can any station or condition rescue from 
these incumbent miseries. The rich, the honorable, 
and they who swim in tides of pleasure, can bear wit- 
ness. T^by else would Ahab sicken for Naboth's 
vineyard, and Haman lay so sore to heart the refrac- 
tory behavior ofMordecai? If treasured riches, if sen- 
sual delights, added even to knowledge and wisdom, 
could satisfy the heart, then might thou, Solomon, en- 
joyed a heaven upon earth, nor complained of vanity 
and vexation, nor that he who encreaseth knowledge, 
encreaseth sorrow. Alas •! even our greatest comforts 
prove filling ; and far from issuing in contentment, 
we still complain even in large abundance of worldly 
delights, 



20 

What shall we say then to these things ? Shall 
wretched mortals abandon themselves to sullen sor- 
row, and hopeless desperation ? Shall the world be 
turned into a Bochim ? Is it a place where his mer- 
cies are clean gone, and where he will be favorable no 
more ? Are there not many footsteps of the divine be- 
nignity, even in this our earthly mansion ? Doubtless 
there are ; for he hath not left himself without a wit- 
ness, that goodness is essential to his nature ; he bids 
the earth teem with plenty, and the clouds drop with 
vegetable fatness. There are pleasures of sight, of 
smell, of taste, peculiar to the various seasons of the 
revolving year. Many creatures are yet subservient 
to our interest, and all the elements are made to con- 
tribute for our welfare. Par be it from high-favored 
men, to despise the riches of the Almighty's goodness. 
But, O ye everlasting joys, which the glorious gospel 
reveals ! what thoughtful being would not be discon- 
tented with such a world as this, without the conside- 
ration of you ? The distant prospect of life and im- 
mortality is able, and that alone, to reconcile the heart 
to the visible economy of God. Even great and sore 
affliction is deemed but light and vain, because it lasts 
but for a moment. Eternity apart, the miseries of 
life would swallow up the joys. But now even these 
devourers are buried in the capacious womb of vast e- 
ternity. 

Blessed be thy condescension, O patient Son of 
God, who disdained not to taste the bitter cup of grief; 
grief not thy own, but ours. And blessed be that wis- 
dom to whose glorious contrivance we are indebted 
for the cup of consolation presented in the gospel, 
which we may drink, and remember our misery no 
more. — By various ways the sons of men hath tried 
to extricate themselves from the lamented consequents 
of their fall. Games and recreations, arts and sci- 
ences, yea, many false religions have been invented 
for this end. Miserable comforters are they all ! Chris- 
tianity, it is thine alone to chase our gloom of thought, 
and wipe away our tears ; wliiie by thee we are di- 



21 

reeled to dart our thoughts beyond this transitory 
world, this inconsiderable speck of time, unto the eter- 
nal scene, which shall commence when the last trum- 
pet shall be sounded ; we no more repine at the ap- 
pearance of wo, nor think " our light affliction worthy 
to be compared with that glory that is to be revealed ; 
while we look not at the things that are seen ; for the 
things that are seen are temporal, but the things that 
are not seen are eternal.'* 



On the inevitable misery of ike wicked. 

BUT there shall be no reward to the evil man. — 
No reward, did I say ? Nay, if God be just, then u he 
will render indignation and wrath, tribulation and an- 
guish, to every soul of man that doth evil, without re- 
spect of persons." To him belongeth vengeance.— 
Though patience may delay, though clemency may- 
mitigate, though mercy, grace, and wisdom, may trans- 
fer the punishment to the person of a Surety ; yet 
still his wrath must be revealed against all unrigh- 
teousness and ungodliness of men. 

Doth not even nature herself teach us, that siix 
and punishment are most inviolably connected ? For, 
even barbarians could infer, when they saw a viper 
fasten upon the hand of a person whom they knew not, 
after he had escaped a dismal shipwreck ; " Certainly 
this man was a murderer % for vengeance suffereth him 
not to live." How often are the wicked consumed with 
fearful terrors, when they can be under no apprehen- 
sion of punishment from men ? For they know that 
it is " the judgment of God, that they who do such 
things are worthy of death." W hence are we struck 
with trembling at any uncommon appearances of na- 
ture ? If a storm of thunder and lightning torments 
the air ? If the sun labors in an eclipse ? If a gla- 
ring comet waves his banner over the nations ? — - 
"Whence the terror of apparitions ? Whence tbe fore- 



22 

bodings of misery after death ? "Whence the prevail* 
ing opinion, even among the ancient Jews, that death 
was to be the consequence of an extraordinary ap- 
pearance of the Deity ? Is it not -because we are in- 
solvent debtors that we dread the face of our injured 
ereditor ? Is it not because we are traiterous rebels 
we abhor the presence of our offended sovereign ?■ — 
Therefore, with Adam, we hide ourselves from the 
presence of tbe Lord. And with the widow of Zare- 
phath, Ave are ready to think, that whatever is more 
than common, is a messenger of the Lord of hosts to 
slay us, and bring our sin to remembrance. 

Oft times the guilty conscience will create unto 
itself imaginary horrors, and sinners are in great fears, 
where no fear is, while they are apt to say, with Cain, 
Every one that meeteth me, will slay me. What nations 
under heaven have not attested the truth of this, while 
they have appeased their gods with bloody expiatory 
sacrifices ? And (horrid to relate !) their altars have 
reeked even with human gore : the fruit of the body 
has been given for the sin of the sold T Whether the 
dreadful custom may be derived from the mangled tra- 
dition of Abraham offering up Isaac ; or, whether our 
adversary the devil would, by stirring them up to 
such abominations, insult over the guilt of their con- 
sciences, and blindness of their hearts, by aping the 
sacrifice of Christ, hereby intending to discredit the 
glorious method of salvation : ope thing is certain, 
that mankind, degenerate as they were, did really 
judge, that an expiation was necessary to be made, 
and that he will by no means clear the guilty. 

And however much their foolish heart was dar- 
kened, as to the manner of propitiating the Deity, vet 
certainly the necessity of it is one of the dictates of 
nature. For, could we suppose, that a sinning crea- 
ture should escape the righteous judgment of God, 
and feel no effects of his displeasure ; how could it ap- 
pear that he were a God of purer eyes than to behold 
iniquity ? Would there rot be too much reason to 
*ay, " every one that doth evil is good in the sight of 



23 

the Lord, and he delighteth in them, and where is the 
God of judgment ?" How could his lordship and do* 
minion over the world be maintained, should he for- 
bear to punish the violators of his law ? Is it impos- 
sible he can be divested of his sovereign rule, or that 
his creatures can throw off all mortal dependence up- 
on him that made them ? So it is impossible but the 
order of punishment must succeed, when the order of 
obedience is disturbed; and they who burst the bands 
of the law, must of necessity be bound in the chords 
of affliction. Consider this, and be afraid, ye that for- 
get God. While a method is not fallen upon to ap- 
pease incensed justice, and separate sin from your 
souls ; if God be the righteous judge of all the earth ; 
if God be the Lord of the creatures ; if God be bles- 
sed, (O tremble to think it !) you must be miserable* 
As the fire devours the chaff, as the fiame consumes 
the stubble; so must you perish at his presence. 

But let us hearken to the sacred oracles on this 
interesting subject. " Search ye out of the book of 
the Lord, and see that every disobedience receives a 
just recompence of reward." The flames of Sodom, 
the waters of Noah, the torments of hell, the suffer- 
ings of Christ, bear witness unto this. O gin, thou 
hast kindled a fire that will burn to the bottom of the 
mountains ! " Behold, he will come with fire, and 
with his chariots, as a whirlwind, to render his anger 
with fury, and his rebukes with flames of fire : for, by 
fire, and with his sword, will the Lord plead witJb all 
flesh ; and the slain of the Lord shall be many." Nor 
can we reasonably blame the bowels of the Deity be- 
cause he taketh vengeance ; for, according to Moses, 
it is a branch of his goodness, ihat he will by no means 
clear the guilty. According to Joshua, it is because 
he is a holy God that he will not forgive our transgress 
sions. According to David, it is because the right- 
eous Lord loveth righteousness, that he will rain upon 
Ihe wicked snares, fire, and brimstone, and a burning 
tempest, the portion of their cup. 



24 

But, especially, had it been an indifferent thing 
with God to punish or not to punish the guilty, who 
can persuade 'us that he who afflicts not willingly nor 
grieves the children of men^ would take such pleasure 
in bruising his only begotten son, whom he loved ? — 
Was he without necessity exposed to such direful suf- 
ferings ? Nay: for Go d hath set him forth to be a pro- 
piiiaitt% to declare — his love. True; but to declare 
also his righteousness in the remission of sin, and that 
he may hejvsi. 

Blessed be that -matchless 'grace and wisdom, that 
has provided a lamb for a burnt sacrifice"; — that has 
found a ransom ; — that has opened a city of refuge ; — 
that has reconciled mercy, and truth, and righteous- 
ness with peace. O that that gracious Redeemer, 
without whose kindly interposition we liad better been 
crushed in the very bud of being, might forever live 
in our hearts, might forever be esteemed above all o- 
tlier beloveds, might forever be the reigning subject in 
our thoughts, both when we wake % and when we sleep! 
'* If we forget thee, O blessed Jesus, then let our 
right hand forget her cunning. If we do not remem- 
ber thee, let our tongues cleave to the roof of our 
mouths; if we prefer not thee above our chief joy;" 
O ! let us never drink that as water, which cost the 
£ fusion of thy blood ! Let us never have that sweet in 
our mouth which tendered to thy lips the vinegar and 
gall! Let us never rejoice in that which made thee 
exceeding sorrowful ! nor bless ourselves in that which 
subjected thee to the curse 1 nor live in that ibr which 
thou died ! 



On Christ's dying* in the stead of sinners, to make full 
satisfaction for their transgressions. 

THAT Christ died for his people, not merely for 
'their 1 ' good, but in their room and place, is a fundamen- 

*Sec note in page 25. 



25 

tal article of our holy religion, and a grand peculiarity 
of the gospel ; though regarded by many as only a 
speculative point, and by many traduced as a sense- 
less absurdity, inconsistent with reason, and the per- 
fections of the Deity. And here I must confess, that 
if we were not to attend to the sacred oracles as our 
rule ; if we were not solely conducted in our resear- 
ches by the light of nature and reason, our cause is 
lost. For, though the doctrine itself is not contrary 
to sound reason, it is the mystery of his will, which is 
hid from the wise and prudent, and which would ne- 
ver have entered into our thoughts, if God had not 
been pleased to reveal it. Let us go to the law and 
testimony ; and, according to the observation of a ve- 
ry eminent divine, the death of Christ is exhibited in 
three capital views; as a price, a punishment, and as 
a sacrifice. And it will, from every one of these, ap- 
pear, with the brightest evidence, that the death of 
Christ was a true and proper satisfaction in the room 
of his elect people. 

Let us begin with it as a price. Now, what is a 
price ? A price is a valuable compensation of one 
thing for another. A slave is redeemed from captivi- 
ty, a debtor from prison, when some gracious redee- 
mer procures their liberty, by giving some equivalent 
to the person by whom they are detained. We are 
debtors ; we cannot pay unto God what we are owing, 
We are captives, and we cannot hasten to be loosed. 



NOTE, 

# The death of Christ includes not only his suffer- 
ings, but his obedience. The shedding of his precious 
blood was at once the grand instance of his suffering % 
and the finishing act of his obedience. In this view it is 
considered, and thus it is interpreted by his own ambassa- 
dor, who, speaking of his divine Master, says, " he was 
obedient unto death, even the death of the cross.''' Phil. 
ii, 8, Hervey's Dial. vol. II. p. 47 , 

c 



26 

Jesus Christ is the merciful Redeemer, who pays the 
r,um;we were owing, and says to the prisoners, Go 
forth. Will we not believe an apostle when he tells 
us, ye arc not your own ; ye arc bought with a price ? — • 
Would yon know what this price is ? Another apos- 
tle will tell ; " ye are not redeemed with corruptible 
things, as silver and gold, but with the precious blood 
of Christ. 5 ' Now, though it be true that there is a re- 
demption by power mentioned in the scripture, yet, 
redemption by price is the only proper redemption ; 
and we cannot reasonably doubt but redemption by 
price is the meaning of the most remarkable texts of 
scripture, where Christ is characterised by this lovely 
denomination. What hath he obtained for us by bis 
death ? Eternal redanpticn, Eeb. ix. 12. What have 
we through his blood ? Redemption and forgiveness of 
sin, Eph. i. 7. What is Christ made unto us of God ? 
Sanctification and redemption, 1 Cor. i. 30. What did 
ihey look for that expected the coming of the Mes- 
sias ?■ Redemption in Israel, Luke ii. 28. Even Job 
could say, I know thai my Redeemer livcifi, chap. xix. 
25. We sold ourselves for nought, and we are re- 
deemed without money of our own. The redemption 
of the soul was too precious to be effected by our im- 
poverished stock. — But we are not redeemed without 
money to the Lord Jesus, who gave himself for us, to 
redeem us from all iniquity. The ransom was paid 
down, the price beyond all price ; a sum too large for 
the arithmetic of angels to compute. — Let the adver- 
saries bring forth their strong reasons. If, say they, 
the death of Christ was a proper price, it was paid to 
the devil, whose captives we were. No ; it was 
paid to God, whose captives we were ; the devil was 
only his slave, jailor, and executioner. But, say they, 
if it was paid to God, it was paid by Christ to himself. 
And, where is the absurdity here ? It is true a man 
cannot satisfy himself as to a money-debt, by giving 
money to himself that another owes him ; yet> as to a 
criminal debt, there is nothing to hinder a just judge, 
even among men, to satisfy his own law, by submit- 
ting to what it requires. Nor does this gospel doc- 



27 

trine calumniate the Deity, as though he were a gree- 
dy tyrant, that will let no prisoners go, unless he can 
get great riches for their ransom. For, our price did 
not enrich him, but only paved the way for our being 
released to the honor of his justice. 

Next, let us consider it as a punishment. A pun- 
ishment is never inflicted by a just governor, except 
upon transgressors of the law ; for, " to punish the 
just, is not good." It is for the punishment of evil- 
doers that magistrates are set up by God. Now, if 
the death of Christ was a punishment, it must una 
voidably follow, that it was vicarious. Why wouldst 
thou, O heavenly Father, command the sword of jus- 
tice to awake and smite the man that is thy Fellow ? 
Surely it was not for his own fault ; for " he did no 
sin, neither was guile found in his mouth." Even Pi- 
late acquitted him, and Judas absolved him. Why 
then did the almighty Sovereign of heaven permit 
such an innocent person to be put to death ? Why 
did not the thunders awake ? Lo ! here the mystery- 
is unfolded : he died, " the just for the unjust, that he 
might bring us to God. He was cut off, but not for 
himself ; for the transgression of my people was he 
smitten." — Let insolent cavillers object, that it de- 
grades our Messiah, to regard him in the light of an 
executed felon ; the lower the humiliation, the deeper 
is the love. 

Lastly, that Christ died in the room and stead 
of his people, appears from its being called a sacrifice. 
Who knows not that our Redeemer is often styled a 
high priest? His human nature was the victim, his 
divine nature the altar, his body was the taberna- 
cle. Who knows not, that the legal high priests did 
bear the sins of the people ?— And because they could 
not atone for the people, by laying down their own 
lives, they offered bullocks, goats, lambs, and sheep. 
Whatever absurd accounts our ancient and modern 
Socinians have invented of the meaning of sacrifices 
of expiation, most certainly the language of them was, 
O Lord, I have sinned ; I deserve to die ; but, I be- 
seech thee, let thine anger, fall on this my victim, or 



28 

on that which is signified by it ; and be merciful 'to- 
me a sinner. — Thus God was ceremonially appeased, 
mi was expiated, and the Israelite was forgiven. 



The union betwixt Christ and believers. 

THE suffering Redeemer had now resigned his 
jbreath, after he had implored the divine forgiveness to 
his bloody murderers, and with an amazing loud cry, 
commended his departing spirit into the hands of his 
heavenly Father, who shewed it the path- of life, A 
scene it was, which nature trembled to behold. The 
sun called in Ms rays, and mourned in sackcloth. The 
temple rent her vail, to testify at once her indignation, 
and that the w T ay into the holiest of all was now 
made manifest. And even the rocks, the flinty rocks, 
upbraided with the hardness of their hearts the unpi- 
tying tormentors of the Lord of glory. Lo !.. there he 
hangs a lifeless corpse ! A wealthy disciple obtains a 
warrant to perform the last kindly offices. The man- 
gled body is wrapped in fine linen, and decently in- 
terred. In vain you seal the stone, and- appoint a ' 
watch : still these remains are the body of Christ, and 
the peculiar care of heaven, which shall not see cor- 
ruption. For, the third day shall ye see him arising 
from the bed of death ; and what is now sown in dis- 
honor, shall be raised in glory. 

So, just so, the elect, who are chosen in Christ 
from all everlasting, even while dead in trespasses 
und sins, and lying in the grave of the corrupt natural 
state, are regarded by God as the body to which he 
was federally united in the council of peace. Was it 
impossible for the fleshly part of the Redeemer to see 
putrefaction in the grave, and to remain under his 
gloomy power forever ? Equally impossible it is 
those should pine away in their iniquities, who are 
Christ's dead men ; whom he has. loved with an eves- 
tetsting love. 



29 

Within two days he shall revive them, the third 
day he siiall yaise them up, and they shall live in his 
Bight. According to the gracious promise, by the 
mouth of the prophet Isaiah, they shall not always re- 
main in the congregation of the dead. " For thus 
saith the Lord, thy dead men shall live, together with 
my dead body shall they arise. Awake and sing, ye 
that dwell in the dust." 

A federal union there is in scripture reckoning, 
between the Lord Jesus, and those who are predesti- 
nated unto life. An union which commences not on- 
ly before they are born into the world of grace, but 
before they were born into the wdild of nature. Be* 
fore they were born, did I say ? Nay, it is an union 
ancient as eternity itself; and grace w r as given them 
in Christ before the world began. With him they 
were crucified ; with him they died ; with him they 
descended into the grave : when he rose from the 
t dead, they also did arise ; when he ascended on high, 
they also ascended, and sat down with him in heaven- 
ly places. Yet still this blessed connection with the 
glorious Surety is a secret reserved in the breast of 
God ; and they are by nature the children of wrath, 
even as others, until, in the day of conversion, they 
are actually united unto Christ by a mystical implan- 
tation. 

In the worlds of nature and art, there are found 
many conjunctions; and which of them is not sum- 
moned by the Spirit of God to shadow forth this su« 
pernatural one ? As the body is joined to the gar- 
ments which it wears, to the head with which it is a- 
domed, to the soul wherewith it is animated; as the 
mother to the child conceived in the womb ; as the 
root to the branches ; as the foundation to the super- 
structure; as the husband to the wife;' so is Christ 
unto believers. They have put him on as a garment ; 
they are knit together, they are nourished,, they in- 
crease by him as a head, with the increase of God. — 
He is their life; it is not they that live, but Christ li- 
veth in them. He is formed in their hearts. In hmu 

e 2. 



30 

they are rooted as branches in the vine, built up asr 
lively stones upon a living foundation. Great is the 
nearness of the husband and wife, when they are no 
more twain but one flesh ; but still more close is this 
connection $ for, " he that is joined to the Lord, is 
one spirit.' 5 

Does any one of these similitudes convey'but an 
imperfect idea of this mysterious unity, let the re- 
maining ones contribute their help to aid your appre- 
hensions. But, after all, they fall infinitely short of 
the thing they are intended to adumbrate. And 
therefore the wisdom of God compares it to an union, 
by which indeed it is infinitely transcended. In be- 
half of his beloved people, he prays the Father, that 
they may he one, saith he, in us, as thou, Father, art in 
me, and I in thee ; John xvii. 21.- — It is true, they are 
not joined unto the Redeemer by such an essential 
conjunction as is betwixt the sacred persons of the 
Godhead ; nor by such a personal union as is between 
the eternal Son and his temporal humanity. It is not 
an unition of persons in one nature, like the former; 
nor of natures in one person, like the latter; but an 
union of a multitude of persons, not merely unto the 
doctrine of Christ, not merely unto the grace of Christ, 
but the person of Christ, considered not as God only, 
not as man only, but as God-man. 

They are indeed linked together by the bonds of 
government and subjection, and by the ties of strong- 
est friendship ; that, is of a political, and this, of a 
moral kind. But shall we say the mysterious expres- 
sions we mentioned above, denote no more but this ? 
Believers are joined to Christ by the bands of govern- 
ment and friendship. Does the Spirit of God then 
wrap up the plainest things in the darkest phraseolo- 
gies ? Is this to the honor of the scriptures ? No : — 
that be far from the Spirit of wisdom and revelation ; 
the perfection of the sacred oracles. It is not the 
dark phrases, but the sublime and heavenly thing, of 
which the apostle of the Gentiles is discoursing, when 
u co ^« this- is a great mystery ; I speak coi&^rning 



31 

Christ Jesus and believers are the parties ; the 
Spirit and faith are the bonds ; the law and the gospel 
are the instruments ; the sacraments of divine institu- 
tion are the seals, in this mysterious coalition. Mys- 
terious indeed, which shall not be thoroughly appre- 
hended, but in the light of glory. For thus the pro- 
mise runs : "In that day shall ye know that I am in 
the Father, and the Father in me ,• and I in you, and 
you in me." 

A mystery this, worthy to be contemplated of 
angels and arch-angels. Angels see, but saints expe- 
rience it. It is one of the deep things of God, which 
the natural man receiveth not ; and even the spiritual 
man is unable to comprehend it. But shall it there- 
fore be rejected as incredible, when it is only incom- 
prehensible ? Christians believe greater mysteries 
than this ; and without all peradventure, the less is 
confirmed by the greater. And philosophers acknow- 
ledge the reality of unions, for which they cannot ac- 
count. 

But, O ! thrice happy they who are thus joined 
unto the Lord, and found in Christ, not having their 
own righteousness ! They are called by his name, 
they are partakers of his fulness, and in all their afflic- 
tions he is afflicted. Though he resides in heavenly 
places, and they are sojourners on the earth ; yet are 
they blessed in him With all spiritual blessings. You 
trample upon the toe, the head cries out, why persecu- 
test thou me t But when you clothe his naked, and 
feed his hungry members, he deema you did it to him- 
self. I was hungry r , and ye gave me meat ; naked, and 
ye clothed me. 

Let supercilious, puny mortals, regard with con- 
tempt, or cold indifference, the saints of the Most 
High ; but, O ! let my delights be with you, ye excel- 
lent of the earth. Christ i& not ashamed to call you 
brethren ; God is not ashamed to call himself your 
God. A more exalted honor this, than to wear an 
imperial crown, and fill the throne of the whole earth t 
—To you there is no condemnation, nor falling totals 



32 

iy away; you are the members of Christ, therefore he 
knows your wants ; you are the body of Christ, there- 
fore he will supply them. Christ is your head, he 
will cleanse your defilements ; Christ is your head, he 
will cure your diseases. What though you be in po- 
verty ? — you are in Christ. What though you be in 
reproach ? — you are in Christ. Let death divide your 
souls and bodies ; let the grave calcine your bones ; 
let the four winds war for your dust ; your vital union 
with Christ shall still remain. When you shall render 
up the ghost, you die in the Lord ; and when you de- 
scend into the peaceful grave, your dust shall sleep in 
Jesus. Can any force, can any fraud, find means to 
enter into the heaven of heavens ; and pluck an eye, 
or tear a limb from the glorified humanity of the ex- 
alted Redeemer ? And even in the days of his humi- 
liation, the soldiers could not break his bones, because 
they saw he was already dead. For so it was fore- 
told, in ancient prophecy, a bone of him shall not he 
broken. But ye are kept as the apple of his eye ; and 
are the members of his body, of his fiesh, and of hm 
bones. 



ON TRUSTING IN GOD. 

HE that trusts in the Lord with all his heart, 
does not indeed expect, that God will do that for him 
which he has never promised; far less that he will be 
favorable unto him, in what is contrary to his revea- 
led will. But, first, he sees that his matters are good 
and right ; and then he commits the keeping of his 
soul unto the faithful Creator ; who is a buckler to 
them alone that walk uprightty. 

If he i3 called of God to any difficult duty, for 
which he finds himself unequal, he persuades himself 
that God will command ..is strength, and work in him 
both to will and to do of his good pleasure ,• and out 
of weakness he is made strong, 



33 

He will not indeed presume on the divine protec- 
tion, when rushing headlong into dangers, evidently- 
foreseen, without necessity ; as though the Almighty 
were obliged to suspend for him the laws of nature, 
and be prodigal of his miraculous operations. For e- 
ven the Son of God himself would not tempt his lo- 
ving Father, by casting himself down from the pinna- 
cle ; though, as the bold impostor told him, the angels 
had in charge to keep him in all his ways. But let 
him hear the voice of God and conscience ; this is the 
way, walk ye in it ; though he should pass through 
fire and water, he laughs at fear ; and is not greatly 
moved by the most ghastly appearances of danger. — 
Though war should rise against him ; and death, with 
sable wings, should hover round his head ; yet will he 
fear no evil. For " thou wilt keep him in perfect 
peace, O God ! whose mind is stayed on thee, be- 
cause he trusteth in thee.' 5 

The perfections of the Godhead are the chambers 
of safety wherein he hides himself. That everlasting 
strength, for which nothing is too difficult ; — that 
matchless goodness that extends itself even to the 
birds of the air, and lilies of the field ;— that perfect 
immutability that excludes all variableness and sha- 
dow of turning ; — that inviolable veracity by which it 
is impossible for God to lie ; — that exact omniscience 
from which no want can be hid ; — that incomprehen- 
sible wisdom which can make all things work togeth- 
er for his own glory, and our good ; — the promises of 
the word, and all the experiences of the saints ; these 
are his sure foundations on which he builds his trust. 

If he himself has found the eternal God his re- 
fuge, experience worketh hope. As he hath delivered, 
and doth deliver, he trusts in God, that he will yet 
deliver. If he has recourse to his own experiences^ 
and finds no light from that quarter, he searches out 
of the book of the Lord, and finds, that never were the 
righteous forsaken. If friends proved faithless, or una- 
ble to afford him any relief in the day of calamity, 
enemies shall befriend. Even Philistines and Chal- 



34 

deans shall intreat him well in the evil day. Did all 
human relief fail, and vain was the help of man ; then 
God has made a friendly covenant for him with the 
beasts of the field, the birds of the air, and the fishes 
of the sea. Ravens shall feed him, bears shall avenge 
his quarrel, and monsters of the deep afford a sacfe re- 
treat. Fishes have supplied his wants ; and dogs 
have proved physicians to his sores. — If. the animal 
creation failed, the dead and lifeless creatures have 
come into his interests. The roaring waves 
divide to give him passage ; and for his sake the 
fierce element of fire forgets his burning power. If 
neither men, nor beasts, nor elements appeared to his 
aid ; numbers of mighty angels encamp around, and 
deliver him. But chiefly God has been a never-fai- 
ling refuge, when neither friends, — nor foes, — nor 
beasts, — nor elements, — nor angels, — nor any other 
creature have interposed for their safety. " Thou 
hast been a strength to the poor, a strength to the 
needy in his distress ; a refuge from the storm, a sha- 
dow from the heat, when the blast of terrible ones 
was a storm against the wall." 

Whilst he, by this believing confidence, gives glo- 
ry to God, a full reward is given by the God of Israel, 
under whose wings he trusts. No anxious cares a- 
bout this world's good things ; no dispiriting fears a- 
fcout its evil things, shall be able to disturb his repose. 
He is careful for nothing that can befal his mortal bo- 
dy, his civil reputation, or his worldly accommoda- 
tions. Having devolved all his cares upon the great 
Jehovah, commended to him his present and his fu- 
ture interests, he lies down, and his sleep is sweet un- 
to him. His flesh shall rest in hope, even in the clay- 
cold bed of the grave. His righteousness is brought 
forth as the light. Surely the Lord will make perfect 
what concerneth him. " Lord God of hosts, blessed 
is the maw that trusteth in thee !" 



35 



ON TRUSTING IN CHRIST. 

NOR is it less our duty to trust in thee, ah 
Blighty Savior of sinners, w ho savest us not by bow, 
nor by sword, nor by battle, nor by horses, nor by 
horsemen, nor by might and power ; but by thy blood 
which thou shed, arid by the Spirit which thou pourest 
down. " Surely shall one say, in the Lord have I 
righteousness and strength." For he shall be enabled 
to discern all other grounds of trust to be but arms of 
flesh ; — but lies and vanities ; — but spider's webs ; — ■ 
but perishing gourds ;— but foundations that shall be 
overthrown with a f od ; whilst he that puts his trust 
in the Lord shall be safe, and shall inherit his holy 
mountain. 

Though his distinguished privileges should be 
like those of Capernaum, that was exalted up into 
heaven, he confides not in the temple of the Lord, but 
in the Lord of the temple. — Though he could boast an 
illustrious descent from the venerable Abraham ; or 
claim kindred, according to the flesh, with Jesus Christ 
himself ; he would not on that account think himself 
entitled to the divine regard. — Though he should find 
much worldly substance ; he " will not say to gold, 
thou art my hope ; nor to fine gold, thou art my confi- 
dence ;" as though the Almighty would esteem his 
riches, or as though they could be profitable in the day 
of his wrath. — Though he should equal Heman in the 
deepness of his exercise, and Paul in the abundance of 
revelation ; he would not reckon it expedient for him 
to glory.— Though, for the cause of Christ, he should 
even pour his blood ; yet by the blood of the Lamb 
would he overcome ; yet in the blood of the Lamb, 
{and not his own) would he wash his robes, and make 
them white. — Though his gifts should be eminent, his 
knowledge clear and extensive : though in the sweet- 
ness of his natural temper he should be like a Moses ; 
and a Paul in the blamelessness of his life, touching 



36 

ihe righteousness of the law ; though his profession 
were ever so strict, and his reputation ever so fair :— 
in a word, though he should shed many tears, pour ma- 
ny prayers, endure many hardships, make many vows, 
form many resolutions, and exert the most vigorous 
endeavors in working out his own salvation : yet all 
these things he counts but loss and dung, that he may 
win Christ, and be found in him. Though the saving 
grace of God should be implanted in his heart, he is 
not strong in the grace , that is in himself, but in the 
grace that is in Christ Jesus. His justifying merit is 
the alone ground of his confidence for the pardon of 
his guilt ; his sanctifying Spirit, for the vanquishing 
the power of his inbred corruption. All other confi- 
dences he rejects, because the Lord hath rejected 
them. No tempest shall be able to batter down his 
walls ; his foundation never shall be razed ; his confi- 
dence shall never be rooted out of his tabernacle, but 
shall have a great recompence of reward, O " blessed 
is the man that trusteth in the Lord, and whose hope 
the Lord is. For he shall be as a tree planted by 
the waters, and that spreadeth out her roots by the 
river, and shall not see when heat cometh ; but 
her leaf shall be green, and shall not wither in the 
year of drought, neither shall cease from yielding 
fruit." 



ON IMITATING CHRIST. 

THE imitator of Jesus Christ is one, who, being 
interested in him as his propitiation, cannot but choose 
to follow him as his pattern : for he knows, that though 
it be not the only or principal end why the Son of 
God was manifested ; it is, however, a very conside- 
rable part of his errand, in visiting these regions of 
mortality, to give us a fair transcript, and a living co- 
py of all those graces and duties that are pleasing un- 
to God, and that are commanded in the law. He re- 






"•verences, indeed, the footsteps of the Sock ; and bles* 
ees God for the holy examples of living and dead 
saints ; which are noble incentives to piety, and a de- 
vout conversation. But still he regards the holiest 
examples of living and dead saints, as but imperfect 
models of duty ; some of their actions being evidently 
sinful, and others of them doubtful and suspicious. — ■ 
Jesus Christ he considers as the only finished pattern 
of obedience ; in whose presence Moses is not meek, 
Soloinoii is not wise, Job is not patient, David is not 
upright, Abraham is not strong in faith, Elijah is not 
zealous, and Paul, the laboring apostle, is not diligent. 
His fellow-saints, and those who have gone before him, 
may indeed surpass him in what he actually attains 
unto, but not in what he aims at. He knows, that the 
liner the copy is, the fairer will be the learner's hand ; 
therefore he sets the Lord aiway before him.' — To fol- 
low the steps of Christ alone, is far more eligible, m 
his esteem, than to go in the way of the world, or fol- 
low the multitude to do evih And how can it be o- 
therwise, when he considers, that the example of 
Christ is the example of his best friend, his glorious 
head, his great Lord and master, his leader and com- 
mander, the shepherd and bishop of his soul, the cap- 
tain of his salvation, and the author of Ms high and 
heavenly calling ? 

He reckons it a far more glorious and honorable 
attainment to resemble his blessed Savior in holiness, 
and obedience to the will of God, than though he 
could be like him in the power, of working miracles; 
a power which has been, in some measure, imparted 
to the workers of iniquity. 

These most invaluable books, the gospels of Mat- 
thew, Mark, Luke, and John, that contain the sacred 
memoirs of the life of Jesus, he prefers before all other 
biography. These venerable histories he peruses 
night and day ; not merely with the £ye of a critic, 
that he may understand their sense and discover their 
beauties ; but, with the eye of a painter, who gazes at 
a fine picture, that he may imitate the artist's delicate 
designs, that he may go and do likewise. 

D 



38 

In all places, companies, duties, and emergencies, 
lie labors to consider with, himself, how would my 
Lord and Savior, were he in my place, acquit himself 
*>n this occasion ? Would he do this or that ? Would 
he allow it to be done ? 

There are many actions of the man Christ Jesus 
which were performed by him, as a human creature, 
In conformity to the moral law, which are to be imita- 
ted in the letter of them. If he obeyed his parents, 
prayed to his God, forgave his enemies, paid tribute 
to Caesar, despised no man for his poverty, esteemed 
no man for his wealth; if he pleased not himself, nor 
sought his own glory ; if he was heavenly in his dis- 
course, cheerful in his obedience, unwearied in his ap- 
plication to his work, and mortified to the world in 
the whole tenor of his conversation : these are branch- 
es of his behavior, in which the servant of -Christ fol- 
lows him in the most literal sense, though at a hum- 
ble distance ; not as Asahel followed Abner, but as 
Peter followed his Master, afar oft". These duties are 
not only incumbent upon him by the authority of the 
precept, but are sanctified unto him, are rendered 
sweet and easy, by the example of the Lord. 

But there are other actions of Christ, in which he 
acted as God : he fasted forty days, he judged the 
hearts of the Pharisees, he took the ass of another man 
to ride upon, as if it had been his own ; he scourged 
the buyers and sellers out of the temple ; he foretold 
future events, and performed a great number of mira* 
cles. To imitate these in the letter of them, the 
christian knows very well, is utterly impossible : and 
to attempt it absolutely unlawful. But, though the 
matter of them is only proposed to his faith, the 
spirit of them or the mind with which he did them, 
is also proposed to his imitation. His taking upon 
liim the form of a servant, when he was in the form of 
God, and his giving himself a sacrifice unto God of a 
sweet-smelling savour ; though for the matter of them, 
they are actions utterly incapable of imitation ; jeU 



39 

even these high acts, in the true spirit of them, the 
christian will endeavor to transcribe, by a humble and 
condescending behavior, and by walking in love, as 
Christ also loved him. — As John the baptist did go 
before the Messiah in the spirit and power of Eiias ; 
though there was a great difference betwixt the indi- 
vidual actions of these two great men : so he goes in 
the power and spirit of Christ, notwithstanding the 
huge distance that must always be between the Sa- 
vior and the saint. 

He may, as his Lord and Master, be exposed to 
calumnies of every kind : but at last his righteousness 
is brought forth as the light ; and even when he gains 
not the applause of the tongue, he wins the approba- 
tion of the heart. If any human thing could reclaim 
an ungodly sinner, ii would be the conversation of 
him who imitates the life of Christ. Here even the 
carnal man beholds the reality of religion brought 
home to his very senses, and the power of his lusts is 
assaulted with holy violence. As Christ is the visible 
image of the invisible God ; so is this man the visible 
image of Christ, whom the world seeth no more, be- 
cause " the heavens must contain him unii] the time 
of the restitution of all things. 5 ' 



HAPPY the man who lives in mortal flesh a life 
of faith upon the Son of God ; though he dwells not 
in the gilded palace, he has the Most High for his ha- 
bitation. Though his food be homely, he fares deli- 
ciously every day upon the hidden manna. For, O 
that noble gift of God ! he in whose heart she dwells, 
is at once possessed of riches, and honors, and plea- 
sures. Let others curiously dispute where she resides, 
in what faculty, in the understanding or the will ; be 
it my exalted privilege to have her formed in my soul* 
The mountains may depart ; the hills may be remo- 



40 

ved ; the solid earth, with the surrounding heavens, 
may pass away : but her foundations are everlasting. 
Sooner shall chaos come again, and God deny himself ; 
sooner shall the natural and the moral world be tossed 
into confusion, than that should fail by which she is 
supported. Great is th#t revenue of glory she brings 
unto our God, whether she trembles at the threaten- 
ing, or relies upon the promise, which he hath spoken 
i-n his holiness ; but most of all when her main object 
Christ is before her eyes, as the Saviour from sin and 
wrath. When angels circle the throne of God with 
heavenly anthems, and yield the most unspotted obe- 
dience to the divine law, they glorify their Maker. — 
But when by her the guilty self-condemned wretch, 
devolves upon the Lord the burden of innumerable 
sing, and trusts for pardon of them all, this is glory to 
God in the highest. Though each obediential act is 
for the praise of God, and glorifies some one perfec- 
tion of his nature, it is hers to render him the glory of 
them all. 

As reason is superior to sense, so faith has the 
pre-eminence over reason. Be reason reverenced in 
matters that fall within her sphere ; but when she 
ventures into deeps of God, the seas where faith has 
all the sovereignty, when acting like herself, she low- 
ers her sails. As sense would seem to tell us many 
things which reason contradicts, so faith will rectify 
the fond mistakes of reason : nor ought she to be dis- 
satisfied. Faith only shuts the eye of reason, not 
picks it out. Nor these alone submit themselves be- 
fore this noble grace ; even others her fellow virtues 
do obeisance. Though, as a gracious quality, she 
stands upon a level with the rest ; yet, as an instru- 
ment, she far excels in glory. She cannot boast in- x 
deed of her intrinsic worth, but of the post of honor 
which she fills by heaven's appointment. She only is 
the general receiver of all the blessings of the gospel. 
By her we call heaven's rich unfathomable mines our 
own, Because she humble th herself, therefore hath 
God highly exalted her, and given her a name above 



41 

Even charity herself is only greater in 
duration : for, she abideth when faith sh-All foil, as to 
its actings ; and die like Moses, in the mount. Such 
is her humble nature, that even the jealous God, who 
will not give his glory to another, even he is found to 
give his glory unto her. We are saved by faith ; we 
are justified by faith. She faithfully returns the glory 
to her object. He has regarded the low estate of his 
handmaid, because himself has said, than that honor 
me, I will honor. 

Though weak in herself, she is strong in the Lord ; 
her very weakness is her strength. She overcomes 
the devil, and the world, and the flesh. She binds up 
the arm of vengeance, and wields the arm of Omnipo- 
tence. The creature is not able to resist her ; and 
the Creator will not. She says unto this mountain 
of difficulty, " be thou removed, and cast into the sea." 
She subdues kingdoms of lusts : quenches the violence 
of the fire of wrath ; stops the mouth of the infernal 
lion; and escapes the edge of the sword of angry jus- 
tice. When other graces quit the field, her own arm 
brings salvation. What shall I say more ? If thou 
canst believe, all things are possible. 

Such is her strength, no wonder she is as bold as 
a lion ; though timorous and distrustful of the crea- 
ture. Confiding in the Lord, she is not afraid to ven- 
ture into the holiest of alL She plays upon the hole 
of the asp, and thrusts her hand into the cocatrice's 
^en. O death, where is thy sting ? she says with boM 
defiance. When presumptuous unbelievers are buried 
in the mighty waters, like the Egyptian host, she 
passes through the foaming waves triumphant. There 
is none like her in all the earth ; who is made with- 
out fear ? 

Though poor in herself, she makes many rich with 
the treasures of eternity. She is not afraid of the 
snow for her household, for all her household are cloth- 
ed in the scarlet robes of everlasting righteousness. — - 
Justly she is denominated precious faith, when she in- 
terests us in precious promises, and agplies unto the 
conscience precious blood. 

d2 



42 

There are indeed who think her blind and head- 
long ; yet is she a sharp sighted grace. She compre- 
hends the love of Christ that passeth knowledge, doc- 
trines which to the natural man are foolishness, and e- 
vents that have no present existence, are realized by 
her. " She is the evidence of things not seen, the 
substance of things hoped for," though ever so remote 
in time or place. She is a kind of second sight, not 
merely to behold spectacles of horror, ghosts and ap- 
paritions ; but the King in his beauty, the land that 
is afar off, the things that are not seen, that are e- 
tenia!. 

It is true, her strength is to sit still, to look on 
while the Lord himself doth wonderously. Like the 
lilies of the field, she toils not, neither does she spin. 
And certain bold blasphemers have talked of our most 
holy faith, as though she were no friend to works of 
righteousness. Impossible ! absurd ! for all good 
works, without exception, are her dear offspring, which 
issue from her pregnant womb. These are her chil- 
dren which praise her in the gates. And she may say 
in truth with the apostle of the gentiles, " I labored 
more abundantly than all the other graces. Do we 
make void the law through faith ? God forbid : nay, 
we establish the law." The law as a covenant she 
makes not void : for she presents the perfect righ- 
teousness of Christ, which answers every legal charge. 
And though she strips the law, to all who have her 9 
of the old covenant-form, she turns it to a rule of life, 
& supplies the believer with the most effectual motives 
to ail holy obedience. No work of God can be accep- 
tably performed, till once you have believed. This is 
his prime command, and your most necessary duty. — 
For without faith it is impossible to please God, by any 
doing, or by any suffering. By faith Abraham offered 
up Isaac his first born son ; and by faith the children 
of Abraham put the knife unto the throat of their most 
favorite lusts. 

But, ah ! how few are there among the sons of 
men who can. lay claim to this invaluable grace !— - 



43 

Though all her ways are pleasantness and peace, 
great is the opposition, by all the powers of corrupt 
nature, unto this heavenly virtue. The bigotted pa- 
pist will rather undergo the drudgery of dismal super* 
stition. The blinded pagan will rather choose to in> 
brue his hands in the blood of his own offspring.— 
The perverse jew, descended from Abraham, only ac- 
cording to the flesh, will rather yield his servile 
neck to the old galling yoke of antiquated ceremo- 
nies, than be at all induced to submit unto the right- 
eousness of faith. They know not, nor will under- 
stand the nature of this exalted grace. Though e- 
ven in matters of this world, all know that trust is no 
uncommon thing. The husbandman, at the return of 
spring, is not afraid to sow, in hope, when he commits 
the foodful grain unto the furrows of the field r " for his 
God doth instruct to discretion.' 3 They who go down 
to the sea in ships, repose such confidence in their 
floating vessels, as not to be afraid to trust themselves, 
and all their worldly riches, unto the boisterous waves. 
Why is it that so few will venture their eternal all, 
and their temporal felicity, unto the faithful word of 
promise ? The man who sows his grain in the furrow, 
is frequently disappointed of his hopes. And many a 
time the loaded vessels become a prey to the unpity- 
ing element of water. But, " he that believeth shall 
not be ashamed, world without end." 



On forgiveness of sin through faith in Christ s divine 
blood.* 

WHEN the guilt of innumerable evils stares me 
in the face, and angry conscience rouses from her -slum- 



* By the blood of Christ is frequently signified in 
scripture, the whole merit of his life and death, of his ac- 
tians and sufferings* of his trials and graces * rdiich sa- 



u 

Ber, where shall I fly for refuge ? Where shall I hide 
my head ? How lay the grizly spectres ? Ye favorite 
lusts, ye pleasing comforts, ye amusing recreations, 
in vain ye lend your aid. Let Cain, with his hands 
reeking in blood, betake himself to building cities ; 
let Saul attempt to find relief from his unquiet mind in 
the charms of music, while David touched the pleasant 
harp ; let the drunkard seek for consolation in his 
flowing bowl, and jolly companions ; the sullen ghosts 
refuse still to depart, when God calls, as in a solemn 
day, his terrors round about. Even vows and resolu- 
tions, prayers and tears, costly sacrifices, and solemn 
promises of future amendment, cannot recal the de- 
parted peace. Let pagans, with horrid rites, seek re- 
conciliation with their fancied gods, and peace unto 
their consciences ; let carnal Jews think to have mat- 
ters adjusted by their ceremonial observances, being 
ignorant of the righteousness of God ; scourge your- 
selves to death; ye blinded papists, and waste your 
carcases to ghastly skeletons, by withholding sleep 
from your eyes, and nourishment from your mouths \- 
travel to the remotest climes in weary pilgrimages ; 
it is all in vain. — Fools that you are, to think you 
shall have peace, by walking after the imagination of 
your own hearts. " The way of peace you have not 
known ; there is nd judgment in your goings." 

For, unto whom should we go but unto thee, O 
thou bleeding Saviour ! By thy blood hast thou made 
peace betwixt an offended Deity and offending mortals,. 
No cause of death was found in thee. For us thou 
drank the bitter cup. Far be it from us to substitute 
our pretended sincerity, our sorrowful repentance, or 
even the more noble grace of faith, in the room of thy 
satisfactory sufferings. thou Prince of peace ! By 



tisfied God's justice, and magnified' God's law ; which 
made fropitiatiGnfor iniquity, ami brought in an ever- 
lasting righteousness . 

Heuvey's Sermon on the means of safety, 



45 

thy seasonable interposition, his anger is turned away ; 
and now it is a righteous thing with God abundantly 
to pardon. 

Happy, thrice happy, fliey who come unto God 
by him, whose iniquity is pardoned, whose transgres- 
sion is forgiven. Riches and honors, thrones, crowns, 
and sceptres, cannot greatly add unto their bliss ; pain 
and poverty, ignominy and reproach, cannot greatly* 
diminish their happiness. It is true, O ye favorites 
of heaven, the fact of sin cannot be taken away, the 
desert of sin cannot be removed ; yea, even its power 
and dominion shall not be totally destroyed in your 
present state of imperfection ; however, there is no 
condemnation to you that are in Christ Jesus. No 
condemnation for your inherent corruption ; none for 
your actual transgressions ; none for your past, none 
for your future provocations. Chastised you may be 
with the rod of a Father, but not with the wounds of 
an enemy. It is God that jusiijieth, who is he that con- 
demneih ? What though your sins are many ? He 
multiplies to pardon. What though your afflictions 
are great ?— -There is no wrath in the portion of your 
cup. Though men should condemn you, God will 
not; though devils accuse you, they shall not prevail. 
" No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper, 
and every tongue that riseth in judgment against thee, 
thou shalt condemn. This is the heritage of the ser- 
vants of the Lord ; and their righteousness is of me 3 
eaith the Lord." 

Fly, ye profane, who turn this grace of God into 
lasciviousness* Be awakened ye presumptuous, who 
fondly dream your sins are pardoned, because ye have 
forgotten them, or because ye have felt some pangs of 
conviction, or because judgment is not speedily exe- 
cuted against your evil works. How can ye be par- 
doned, who have such slight thoughts of the God who 
bestows, the Saviour who procures it, the gospel which 
reveals it ? Ye that are ready to perish under the 
pressure of your iniquities, and ye that are of heavy 
ieart, on account of your innumerable, transgressions* 



4ff 

Itere is a strong cordial, a refreshful draught from the 
wells of salvation. O drink, and remember your mi- 
sery no more. " Go4 was in Christ, reconciling tho 
world unto himself, not * iiputing their trespasses unto 
them." 

Nor is it vain presumption in you to believe, that 
he in Christ is, at this present hour, pacified towards 
you for all that you have done. Though you have 
been wicked and unrighteous, though your sins have 
heen of a crimson dye, scarlet-colored abominations* 
the blood of Christ can wash out the deadly tincture;, 
and make you white as the finest wool, or virgin 
snow. Was it any difficulty for the Red-sea to cover 
with its waves the numerous host of Egypt, when 
Pharaoh, with his captains and common soldiers, cha- 
riots and horses, did sink to the bottom as a stone ? No 
more for the ocean of unbounded love to subdue all 
your iniquities ; not the common soldiers only of ordi- 
nary provocations, but the most grizly and gigantic 
Bins. In the presence of his exalted Majesty, your 
persons are but like the small dust of the balance ; 
which is riot considerable enough to sway the scale, 
and which the gentlest breath can blow away. Just 
as* insignificant are our sins, in presence of his pardon- 
ing mercy. 

Nor is it with a grudge and reluctance the liberal 
God bestows this perfect gift. Once he delighted ia 
wrath, when it pleased him to bruise his beloved Son. 
That was his act, his strange act; his work, his 
strange work. He has no pleasure in the death even 
of the guilty sinner as himself declares ; why then in 
the death, the cruel death, of the innocent Immanuel ? 
The reason, the amazing reason is, because he deligh- 
ted in mercy ; in mercy to the human race. There- 
fore it pleased the Father to bruise him. 

Glorify God for this mercy, ye pardoned ones. — 
A distinguished blessing it is, which will not accent 
the song of angels, but of the redeemed from among 
the human race. Rejoice not that your wealth is in- 
creased, that your circumstances are prosperous, but 



47 

Hiat your iniquity is pardoned. Fear the Lord and 
his goodness, and walk humbly with thy God. 

Reject not the counsel of God against your own 
souls, you who have not yet fled for refuge unto this 
hope set before you, as you would not rob God of his 
.glory, nor yourselves of peace. Will you neglect this 
great salvation ? Will you say unto the Almighty, 
depart from us ; thy gifts be to thyself ? Cursed shall 
ye be of the Lord, whose glory it is to pass over a 
transgression. The Lord Jesus Christ shall subsc. 
thy condemnation; and all the holy rxigels shout their 
applause. Amen, says the chorch militant : Amen, 
the church triumphant. " In returning and rest 
should you been saved ; in quietness and confidence 
should have been your rest : but yon would not hear." 
Lo ! there the men who made not the Lord their con- 
fidence ; who robbed the Lord of his glory : and would 
not be beholden to him for the pardon of their iniqui- 
ties. Behold the time of their visitation is come ; and 
where shall they fly for help ? If in this manner a 
man sin against the Lord, who shall inlreat for him ? 
They would not take hold of his strength ; they would 
not make peace; they would not consider any of his 
ways. See now the red right arm of vengeance takes 
hold of the glittering sword of justice. A sword ; a 
sword is furbished with the oil of mercy, that was des- 
pised & affronted. See how he cleaves their reins asun- 
der, Sz breaketh them with breach upon breach. Merci- 
ful Lord! it is a fearful thing to fall into thy hands; 
when thou art angry, the nations shall not be able to 
tibide thy indignation. Make us wise unto salvation, to 
know the things that belong to our peaces and to fly to 
cur strong hold while we are the prisoners of hope. 



On evangelical rqteniance far sin. 

LET us first begin witii the thoughts of his heart, 
vrhose repentance is of the gospel kind, and not to 1x5 



48 

repented of. Of all evils, he is persuaded that sin is 
the greatest , and of all sinners he is disposed to think 
that himself is the chiefest. He has obtained a view 
of that abominable thing, which before he condemned 
only in words : and sees it, in the gospel-light, the 
heaviest of debts, the ugliest of stains, the weightiest 
of burdens, and the most deadly sting. Though no 
enormities of behaviour should tarnish his civil repu- 
tation among men, yet he sees that innumerable evils 
compass him about, that he is the man who has viola- 
ted every precept of the law ; the devil w T ho has trans- 
gressed against a gracious God by a thousand provo- 
king iniquities. Having descended into his own 
breast, and contracted a more thorough acquaintance 
with the plagues of his own heart, he thinks less fa- 
vorably of himself than he can possibly do of others, 
or they of him. He blesses and adores that sparing 
goodness that bore with him so long, nor filled him 
with the fruit of his own ways. Even his most holy 
duties, which some would call his righteousness, these 
he discerns to labor under so many imperfections, as 
to deserve the epithet of filthy rags. Nor are these 
self-abasing thoughts the mere remonstrances of natu- 
ral conscience, which pass away like the morning 
cloud, and early dew ; or the dazzling flashes of the 
lightning, by which the benighted traveller is rather 
blinded than directed : far less must they be held the 
melancholy suggestions of wicked spirits, intending 
to exaggerate the guilt of his iniquities, and drive him 
to despair. But they are the fixed and sober senti- 
ments of his soul ; which the holy and blessed Spirit 
begets in his mind, when he strikes home the word of 
the law upon the conscience. But, chiefly, the per- 
suasion of forgiveness with God operates on his heart 
with the most kindly influence. The knowledge of 
sin, which is by the law, may be productive of servile 
fear, and worldly sorrow ; but it is the province of the 
gospel alone to paint it in such colors as to make him 
ashamed, yea, even confounded, because he does bear 
the reproach of his youth. glorious grief ! noble 



49 

p^iii ! He is scorched with the beams of goodness t 
and waters with his tears even the joyful pardon of 
his sins. Not so much for the punishment they bring 
upon his own nature, as for the indignity done to the 
divine. He looks on thee, whom he has pierced, O 
bleeding Propitiation! and mourns, not so much for 
himself, as for thee ; as the tender hearted parent 
mourns, with unfeigned sorrow, when the eye-lids of 
an only son are closed in death, or the remains of a 
first-born are consigned over to the silent grave; or 
as the sorrowful Israelites, at Hadadrimmon in the 
valley of Megiddo, wept for the good Josiah, when 
snatched away by an untimely death, in the sins of 
the people ; and whilst he mourns, he tastes more 
true refreshment than worldly joy can give. 

When such are the inmost sentiments of his soul, 
bo wonder that out of the abundance of his heart the 
most ample confessions of sin do flow from his tongue. 
Sometimes to men whom he may have scandalized ; 
but always to God whom he has mainly offended. — 
Far from covering his transgression, as Adam, he 
knows not where to find expressions black enough to 
set forth the extreme odiousness of his guilt. The 
powers of language fail him ; and, with the most ex- 
pressive silence, he lays his hand upon his mouth, his 
mouth in the dust, as being unable to declare either 
the vastness of the multitude of his iniquities, or the 
grievousness of their aggravation. 

To the words of his mouth correspond the actions 
of his life, and the resolutions of his heart, now rent 
from sin, as well as for it : though once it was dear to 
him as the apple of his eye. Begone, deceitful lusts, 
he says ; too long you have prevailed against me by 
your bewitching influence. Farewell, ye gilded 
snares, ye soul-destroyers, ye murderers of my God ; 
dyed crimson with his blood. Welcome, thou glori- 
ous liberty, that frees me from the bondage of corrup- 
tion. Now, every the smallest degree of moral evil 
shows vile on his account; he abstains from every 
appearance of it; and carefully avoids the ave* 

E 



00 

isues of temptation. He does not merely relinquish 
one sin, that with the greater freedom he may indulge 
■another, to which he is equally addicted. For sin, as 
such, is the object of his aversion. But chiefly, if a- 
nj iniquity has prevailed against him more than ano- 
ther, if any sin there be that easily besets him ; a- 
gainst this he levels his opposition, and cheerfully 
foregoes it. As the captive exile hastens to be loosed, 
and with a joyful heart forsakes his dungeon; so he 
abandons, with unreluctant mind, what formerly he 
loved. 



On hungering and thirsting for Righteousness. 

HE that hungers and thirsts for righteousness is a 
tiappy person; who being convinced of the excellent 
ey, suitableness, and absolute necessity, both of a jus- 
tifying righteousness before God, and an edifying 
righteousness before men, feels, in his own heart, a 
sense of its want, anql a desire of supply. 

Though, in comparison of the wicked, who are 
full of all unrighteousness, he is filled already with all 
goodness; yet, when he compares his own attain- 
ments in religion, with the superior attainments of c- 
ther saints, and especially with the just demands of 
the holy law, he looks upon himself as more brutish 
than any man ; and that he has not the knowledge of 
the holy. Once, indeed, before the commandment 
came, he was pure in his own eyes ; and as insensible 
of the universal pollution of his heart and life, as a 
beastly drunkard of his spots, though his face and gar- 
ments are all besmeared with mire and clay. But 
when the fumes of liquor are dispelled, he awakes as 
out of a sleep; discerns himself to be a monster of 
pollution ; and his own clothes do abhor him. He 
now perceives that the former good opinion he had of 
himself, was owing to nothing else but gross inatten- 
tion to the quality of his own heart, and impotence of 



51 

thought. '" As when a hungry man dreameth, anil; 
behold, he eateth ; but he awaketh, and his soul is 
empty : or as when a thirsty man dreameth, and, be- 
hold, he drinketh; but he awaketh, and, behold, he is 
faint, and his soul hath appetite." Woes me^ he cries, 
I am undone : I am a man of unclean lips ; and*, where- 
with shall I come before the Lcrd? 

As hunger has reconciled men to the most incre- 
dible hardships ; and for a drink of water kingdoms 
have been given away : (for hunger and thirst are vi- 
tal appetites, which, if they are not supplied, will 
bring inevitable death :) so is this spiritual and holy 
appetite supreme, prevalent, and triumphant over all 
other desires. What is gold to him that is perishing 
for hunger ? Y/hat is silver to him that is expiring 
with thirst ? And what are thy enjoyments, O vain 
world, to this hungry and thirsty creature ? The per- 
secuted hart doth not more eagerly pant for the water; 
brooks ; nor didst thou, O David, more ardently long 
for the water of the well of Bethlehem, than the hun- 
gry and thirsty christian for his Savin's justifying 
righteousness, and sanctifying Spirit. He contents 
not himself with the hypocritical wish of Balaam, to 
die the death of the righteous : nor with the lazy de- 
sires of the yawning sluggard, whose hands refuse to 
labor : but in the sweat of his brow, and exercise of 
christian diligence a does he eat his spiritual bread. — 
"Where the carcase is there does he go, with willing 
steps, to the ordinances of Christ ; or rather to Christ 
himself in them, in whom all fulness dwells. 

When it is his meat and drink to do the will of 
God, how little he envies you of your dainties, that 
are the workers of iniquity ! His hungering' and his 
thirsting is better than their feasting and carousing. 
O blessed hunger! desirable thirst ! of which to 
die were a happiness to be envied. But he will not 
suffer the soul of the righteous to famish. Bread shall 
be given them , and water shall be sure. For thus saith 
the voice of inspiration, " the Lamb that is in the 
midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead 



52 

them unto living fountains of waters." But the wick- 
ed " shall wander up and down for meat, and grudge 
if they be not satisfied." 



ON PURITY OF HEART. 

PURITY of heart, is that holy disposition tff the 
soul whereby the christian, whose conscience is sprin- 
kled with the clean water of Christ's atoning blood 
from the guilt of his iniquities, is inclined to hate and 
depart from the pollution of all sin in general, and in 
particular from the pollution of fleshly lusts. 

First, let us describe this holy disposition, as op- 
posed to the predominant power of sin in general. — 
The pure in heart is a person who cannot satisfy him- 
self with a ceremonial purity, like that of the ancient 
Pharisees, which consisted only in putting away the 
jilth of the flesh ; nor with a federal purity, which lies 
in church-mef.ibership ; nor with a civil purity, which 
is no more but a freedom from scandalous sins ; and 
may be entirely owing to a virtuous education, and to 
restraining common grace. But the holy Spirit of 
God has created in him a clean heart, and renewed a 
right spirit within him. He has seen the loathsome 
nature of that abominable thing which God's soul 
hates ; of which the vomit of a dog, the poison of a 
serpent, and the putrefaction of a grave, are but faint 
emblems. He has seen that all the faculties of his 
soul and body, all the periods of his life, and all his 
thoughts, his words, his actions, are so deeply stained 
with this moral contagion, that the pure eyes of God 
cannot behold him : yea, he loathes himself in his 
own sight. -He has seen, that this inbred corruption 
is so deeply ingrained in his nature, that all his own 
endeavors to wash out the deadly stain, would be 
as vain, as ineffectual, as to attempt, with common 
water, to wash out the scarlet dye, or the crimson 
tincture* from those garments that have thoroughly 



53 

drunk in these vivid colors; or, as the Ethiopian.', 
should think, by this feebly means, to change his hue,, 
or the Leopard his spots. He has seen, that Jesus 
Christ, by his word, by his blood, and by his Spirit, is 
the only fountain opened for sin, and for uncleanness. 
He that came by water and blood, has, by his word 
and Spirit, begotten in his heart a purifying faith, and 
a purifying hope ; and made him, as the King's daugh- 
ter, all glorious within. It is true, he is not yet with- 
out all spots or wrinkles ; but only without the spots 
which are not the spots of God's children. As a fair 
day may have some clouds; a fair face may have 
some freckles ; and a good field of corn may have 
some weeds ; so the pure in heart may have some ble- 
mishes and imperfections. But as, by actual attain- 
ment, he is purged from the reigning pollution of sin ; 
so by ardent desire, and serious endeavors, he aspire^ 
after the perfection of pure and undefined religion.— 
He cannot boast that he has already attained it. Ah, 
no ! but he wishes for it, he prays for it, and he labors 
after it. 

But in a special manner, the pure in heart has, 
in some good measure, gained the mastery over those 
vile affections, and sensual indulgences of the flesh, of 
which it is a shame even to speak, and hardly safe e- 
ven to reprove. — He remembers, that the pure eyes of 
God are always upon him, that the pure Spirit of God 
inhabits the temple of his body ; that he is redeemed 
with the precious blood of a holy and undeiiled Re- 
deemer ; and that he is the expectant of an incorrup- 
tible, undented inheritance. He cleanses his way, by 
taking heed thereto, according to the pure word of 
God. 

He hates the thoughts of impurity. If they are 
darted into his mind, he disallows them, he groans un- 
der them, and suffers them not to lodge within him. — - 
He hates the word^of impurity ; the mire and dirt of 
iilthiness, and foolish talking ; which is as sure a to- 
ken of an impure heart, as smoke rushing from the 
chimney is an indication of fire on the hearth.- Ha- 



54 

hates the deeds of impurity, hates them not only when 
perpetrated by others, but if himself has been formerly 
chargeable with them. He reflects not upon his past 
follies with gloriation, or with indifference and cold 
remorse ; but with unfeigned sorrow and deep humi- 
liation. He hates the occasions of impurity, and la- 
bors to avoid them. Conscious of the infirmity of his 
flesh, and the treachery of his heart, he endeavors to 
keep at a distance from the incentives to sensuality, 
makes a covenant with his eyes, and ventures not e- 
ven to the utmost verge of his christian liberty. 

His mind being first pure, is then peaceable ; and 
he enjoys a holy serenity, which the impure sensual- 
ist can have no idea of. The doctrines of religion 
are plain and clear to his pure mind; beholds the 
mystery of faith in a pure conscience. His prayer be- 
ing pure, is fervent and effectual. His hearing the 
word is profitable, because he lays aside all fiithiness 
and superfluity of naughtiness. All things are pure 
unto him, because he is pure himself; when to the de- 
filed and unbelieving is nothing pure. Would you 
know the sum of his happiness ? — You have it all de- 
clared in one word, by the teacher who came from 
God, to which nothing can be added, and after which 
we need say no more, Blessed are the pure in hearty for 
they shall see God. 



On holiness^ its nature , excellency^ and necessity, 

O DIVINE holiness! or, shall we call thee ba- 
ilie name of goodness, or righteousness, or uprightness!, 
with what praises shall we extol thee ! Thou art the 
brightest ornament of the universe ; more beauteous 
than the stars of light, or than the roses that straw the 
foot-steps of spring. The sun himself can boast no 
glory in thy presence. 

Thou art the darling attribute of the Deity ; the 
brightest pearl of Jehovah's crowxu Without thee an 



55 * 

Ichabod were written on every other perfection— A~ 
dieu to his wisdom; farewell to his blessedness ; the 
absolute perfection of his nature is no more. Thou 
art that beauty of the Lord, which, above all, the 
saints of the Most High are desirous of beholding. — 
In no perfection he more rejoices. By this he swears, 
with thee the angels swell their notes ; when, with 
covered feet, because of shame ; and faces vailed, be- 
cause of reverence, they surround his throne. Holy> 
holy, holy is the Lord of hosts , they cry, the whole earth 
is full of his glory. Omniscience is his piercing eye, 
omnipotence his powerful arm, and mercy is compared 
to his yearning bowels ; but holiness, is like the face 
and visage of the Godhead* 

Consult we his sacred oracles, what attribute is 
more conspicuous in every description of the Almigh- 
ty ? Read we the volumes of creation, he is holy in 
all his works ; the volumes of providence, he is righ- 
teous in all his ways, of mercy and judgment. — Search 
and see, if there are not very distinguishing marks of 
the divine regard to holiness, in every providential 
way. " Say ye to the righteous, it shall be well with 
him : but wo to the wicked, it shall be ill with him." 
Witness ye angels of darkness, and ye damned spirits 
attest this truth : " The righteous Lord loveth right- 
eousness ;" which God hath written to your dreadful 
experience in fiery flames. O earth, wherefore dost 
thou groan, but because thou art the habitation of the 
ungodly ? And wherefore did the fiery deluge destroy 
your pleasant dwellings, ye cities of the plain- Ye 
justified believers, whose iniquities are pardoned, whose 
transgression is fc -given, your Surety felt the effects 
of that hatred of sin which you should have experien- 
ced. Not all the vials of his vengeance poured on the 
heads of sinful men and angels, can half so loud pro- 
claim the holiness of God, as the sufferings of the in- 
nocent and lovely Jesus ; who therefore is represent- 
ed, by an inspired writer, when testifying before-hand 
of the sufferings of Christ, to turn his meditation upon 
the holiness of him that inhabits the praises of Israel, 



56 

when grappling with the dreadful vengeance due to 
our iniquities; " my God, my God, why hast thou 
forsaken me ? why art thou so far from helping me ?" 
Am I not the son of thy love ? have I not done al- 
ways tlie things that pleased thee ! Why dost thou 
hide thy face ? Why dost thou count me for an ene- 
my, and deal with me as I were an egregious trans- 
gressor ? But what do I say ? I am the surety of lost 
sinners, by my Father's commission, by my own con- 
sent. My sufferings are just ; are necessary, from the 
holiness of thy nature : and for this amazing transac- 
tion, thou shalt rejoice in the praises of Israel to ail e- 
verlasting. 

As every disobedience receives a just recompence 
of reward; so his countenance doth behold the up- 
right ; he will bless the righteous, and compass them 
with his favor as with a shield. O blessed Jesus, " thou 
loved righteousness and hated iniquity, and God, e- 
ven thy God, did for this cause anoint thee with the 
oil of gladness above thy fellows." And what are all 
the blessings of the followers of the Lamb, from the 
smallest crumb, to the ponderous crown of glory, but 
the reward of holiness ; the reward of grace to their 
implanted, of debt to their imputed righteousness ? — 
Yea, even in the place of punishment, where he will be 
favorable no more, the kind regards of God to good- 
ness and morality will be demonstrated. Those who, 
though far from righteousness, were not so vicious 
as others, shall wear a lighter chain than their fel- 
lows, who have been guilty of more atrocious 
crimes. 

Ye sons of /men, how long will you love vanity ? 
How long will ye turn this glory into shame ? Lovely 
perfection, how much art thou despised in the world.. 
How rarely to be found in the living ; whether we 
search for thee in city or in country, in the lofty pa- 
lace, or in the humble cottage ! How small the num- 
ber of thy votaries t This man affects to be learned, 
that to be polite, and another to be witty : but few to 
be holy in all maimer of conversation. Yet are thej 



" 57 

pleasures pure, and without alloy. " Thy ways are 
pleasantness, and all thy paths are peace." How 
greatly they reproach thee, who draw thy picture in 
robes of melancholly, and looks of dark disquietude ■? 
Whether thou leadest thy favorites by the still waters 
of meditation, or bringest them to the house of prayer, 
or makest them lie down in the green pastures of or- 
Mlhiattee^iJiy joys are joys indeed, which nothing 
earthly gives, or can destroy, Joys that will abide 
the test ; nor flush the cheek of shame, nor render pale 
with guilt under thy kindly influence, what pleasing 
exercise is afforded to every rational power ! In those 
happy moments, the soul, and all that is in us, is stir* 
red up to magnify and bless his holy name, and all our 
bones to say, who is like unto thee ? Nor can the 

countenance dissemble the heart-felt satisfaction. ■ 

As the blaze of crackling thorns differs from the light 
of the day, sent from the sun's bright orb, so differ 
worldly pleasures from divine. These leave behind 
no stings of fierce repentance ; can greatly triumph 
over death, and ask the grave, where is thy victory ? 

When thou withdrawest thy footsteps, the world 
is out of joint, and all its foundations are out of 
course. Angels are turned into devils, and heaven is 
turned into hell. For the retrieving of thy injured 
honor, the Son of God came down from his exalted 
throne ; and, in the likeness of sinful flesh, stained 
the cross with his blood. For the advancement of thy 
interest, the word of God was written, and the excee- 
ding great and precious promises are left unto us, that 
by these, being made partakers of the divine nature, 
we may cleanse ourselves from all filthiness of the 
flesh and spirit. And that our souls may be adorned 
with thy glorious beauty, the Holy Ghost descends 
into our hearts. 

By thee the righteous is more excellent than his 
neighbor ; and the beggar with whom thou dwellest, 

more honorable than the king upon the throne. 

When the heavens shall vanish away like smoke, ant! 
the inhabitants of the earth shall die ? thou passeth o 



58 * 

ver into eternity, where God hath prepared for thee a 
glorious habitation. When time, and tair creation, are 
perhaps forgot, thou shalt beam forth in amiable efful- 
gence, and become an eternal excellency* 



• ON PEACE OF CONSCIENCE. 

THE happy soul, in whose heart this peace of 
God hath erected her throne, has firmly resolved with 
Job, that holy sufferer, that his heart shall not re- 
proach him, with any approven guile, so long as he 
lives. He goes not about to patch up a fatal peace be- 
twixt his conscience and his lusts ; (a very common, 
dreadful mistake ;) but if iniquity be in his hand, he 
puts it far away. He loves the divine law with the 
most ardent affection ; — hearkens unto its command- 
ments ; — walks according to its unerring rule ; — and 
walking in his uprightness, he enters into peace — - — 
Being pleasingly conscious of the integrity of his 
heart, he has this inward testimony for his rejoicing, 
though he should hear the slanders of many. His 
conscience, like the wisdom that comes down from a- 
bove, is first pure, then peaceable. For, if even the 
imperfect morality of the Gentiles was attended with 
much serenity and peace ; much more shall righteous- 
ness and pea£e kiss each other in his renewed and 
spiritual mind ; whose conscience is purged from dead 
works, to serve the living God. 

But is his own defective righteousness the only 
rock on which he builds his peace ? Then it were 
of all things the most precarious and uncertain. Alas ! 
he cannot but be conscious, how small a claim he has 
to the character of innocence ; and how he richly de- 
serves, that the Almighty should write bitter things 
against him. His conscience is not seared as with a 
hot iron ; but is endued with the most lively feeling 
of sin, and its desert. Full often. he has 1 the sentence 
of death in himself ; and war ariseth against him.— 



59 

What dGes he, but betake himself unto that blood of 
sprinkling that speaketh better, and more peaceful 
things than that of Abel. When thus his heart is spoken 
to, in these most gentle accents, he knows that ravish- 
ing delight which an apostie stiles, the answer of a 
gccd conscience. He beholds the crucified Redeemer, 
as making peace by the blood of his cross, when the 
chastisement of our peace was upon him. Blessed 
with this noble view, he sits down with great delight 
under the shadow of his righteousness imputed : the 

place where he makes his flocks to rest at noon. 

And on the dove-like wings of faith, he flies far away 
from the windy storm and tempest of an enraged 
conscience : and finds a quiet sanctuary, and safe re- 
treat in the clifts of the rock of ages. 

O happy man, whose heart is thus sprinkled from 
an evil conscience ! From what a dreadful inmate is 
he delivered ! infinitely worse than a contentious wo- 
man in a wide house. Whilst those miserable wretch- 
es, that are haunted by this most awful fury, may fitly 
be compared, even in their jovial hours, and best es- 
tate, to those stately persons, adorned in the front 
with all the decorations of the palace. You go in, and 
behold the abodes of misery, and the dismal dungeons 
of chained malefactors. He whose conscience thus 
speaks peace, has something within that renders him 
superior to all adversity ; that charms all fear and sor- 
row. Even his cottage outvies the palace. His 
coarse attire outshines embroidered purple; An house 
full of sacrifices, where strife of conscience i? may 
not compare with his most homely food, though it 
should be no better than a dinner of green herbs, 
him the sun shines with a more pleasing light, the 
birds sing with more melodious notes. Also he lies 
down and his sleep shall be sweet. Ee is not afraid 
of terror by night; of the pestilence, that walks in 
darkness ; or of destruction, that wasteth at noon-day. 
Though he, like good Josiah, should fall by the stroke 
of hostile sword in the battle; yet still his latter end 
is peace. Even the decisive hour of judgment needs 



60 

Ttoi appal his heart $ because he shall be found of him 
in peace, without spot and blameless. 



ON JOY IN THE HOLY GHOST. 

THIS excellent fruit of the Spirit may be view- 
ed, either as that habitual cheerfulness of temper? 
which the sincere christian, under the influence of 
the Holy Ghost, studies to maintain upon all occa- 
sions j or, it may be considered as importing in it 
those ravishing sallies of pleasure and delight, which 
an apostle styles, joy unspeakable, and fall of glory ; 
which are only indulged in some happy moments, and 
on special occasions. Let us begin with the first. 

It is true, his heart is contrite ; and rivers of wa- 
ters have been known to run down his eyes ; in so 
much, that superficial spectators may take him for a 

man of sorrows ; a gloomy, melancholly creature. 

But could they look into his heart, they would find it 
full of the oil of gladness ; even when , his eyes are 
full of the tears of sorrow. The smile of God from 
without, of conscience from within, cannot fail to in- 
spire him with such cheering tranquility, as could not 
possibly result merely from the most excellent tempe- 
rature of body 3 or the most easy circumstances of this 
vrorld. He thankfully receives the gifts of provi- 
dence ; tastes in them that the Lord is good ; but 
chiefly he rejoices in the word of the truth of the gos- 
pel ; and that his name is written in heaven ; that 
God is his Father, Christ his Savior, and heaven his 
inheritance. Be it so, that sometimes, through the a- 
gency of wicked and melancholly spirits without, and 
the too great prevalence of unbelief within, he gives 
too much way to a desponding frame ; he very well 
knows, that it is neither acceptable to God, glorifying 
to Christ, pleasing to the Spirit, honoring to the gos- 
pel, edifying to his neighbor, or beneficial to his own 
eoui. Ask you the cordials that cheer his drooping 



61 

spirits ? He meditates on God, and rejoices under 
the shadow of his wings. He reads his bible, and 
finds it to the joy of his heart. He mortifies every 
known sin. He pours out unto God the sorrows of 
his heart. His countenance is no more sad. For God is 
favorable unto him, and he will see his face with joy. 

Such is the habitual serenity of mind he studies 
to maintain. Such are the means hy which it is pro- 
moted. But in some blessed periods of his life ; some 
happy days which the Lord has made ; his joy, like 
a river swelled by impetuous rains, bursts all its banks, 
and carries all before it ; at once the joys, at once the 
sorrows of the world. When he obtains the most 
comfortable intimations of the divine favor ; of his in- 
terest in the Redeemer ; and of his title to the hea- 
venly inheritance : O then how his heart exults ! how 
his countenance looks cheerful ! how r the voice of me- 
lody is heard in his tabernacle ! New every object is 
fit to fill his mind with highest rapture. Every per- 
fection of the divine_ nature ; every purpose of his 
will; every sentence of his word; every operation o£* 
his hand ; every privilege of his covenant, whether in 
hand or hope, is a well of salvation, out of which he 
draws water with joy. The birds mend their notes, 
the sun his beams, the outgoings of the morning and 
evening are made more joyful. All sorrow is turned 
into joy before him. Every desert rejoices. Every 
wilderness blossoms as the rose. Every mountain of 
discouragement skips like a calf : Lebanon and Sirion 
like a young unicorn. Every cloud is stamped #ith a 
rainbow. Death loses his dart ; the grave lays a Ma 
her gloom ; and hell her chosen terrors. 

Great is the joy of the bridegroom, when he is 
put in possession of his fair one ; of the mother, when 
her pangs are over, and a man child is bom info the 
world ; of the husbandman, when the labors of the 
year are finished, and his barns filled with plenty ; of 
the soldier when a happy victory puts an end to the 
fatigues of a tedious campaign. But what is the joy 
of the bridegroom ? What is the joy of the child-iea* 

F 



62 

ring woman ? What is the joy of the harvest ? And 
what is the joy of them that find great spoil ? What 
are any, what are all these joys, to the joy of him that 
rejoices in the Lord, and is glad in the God of his sal- 
vation ? For who can tell what is included in the epi- 
thet of it given by a blessed apostle ? " unspeakable 
and full of glory." — If such O Lord, are the first fruits, 
what must be the harvest of that light which is sown 
for the righteous, and gladness which is sown for the 
upright in heart ? If in this vale of tears, thy favorite 
ones so greatly rejoice : who can conceive what is 
prepared for them, in that state when they shall come 
into thy beatific presence, where there is fulness of 
joy, and pleasures for evermore ? 



ON PLEASURE. 

NOR is the christian's claim to pleasure less ap- 
parent. For, first, he only knows to taste the sweet- 
ness of his Jawffil comforts ; and to enjoy those satis- 
factions that are common to his neighbor and himself. 
Who is it that makes the best of the world ? The 
man of pleasure, who. wallows- in sensuality ? Alas ! 
he does not use the world, but abuses it. Fond as he 
seemX. he but condemns his joys to death. His head 
is sick ; his heart is faint. Is it any wonder his flesh 
abhoiveth bread, and his soul dainty meat ? Poor 
man ! he pinea. even in the midst of plenty. For tho 5 
Ms nerves should be braced with strength, and health 
should wanton in hi& veins ; jet is his soul but sickly 
and consumptive. Hence weariness of time ; hence 
impatience of thought ; hence listless inability ; hence 
variable inconstancy, dark cares, and heaving sighs 
fetched from the bottom of the heart. Though all 
surrounding objects should wear a face of pleasure, 
and seem fit to inspire every joy into the heart ; it is 
all in vain he desires to have, but he cannot obtain. 
He obtains, but his hopes are frustrated. Real enjoy- 



63 

ment he is a stranger imto. For he tastes not that 
God is good, in his earthly delights; and finds them 
but empty husks : — not so he that enjoys God in his 
inferior enjoyments. To him the spring wears a more 
beauteous face, the sun shines with a more pleasing 
light, the tulip assumes a deeper dye, and the rose a 
more fragrant smell. I make no doubt but the poor 
beggar Lazarus in the parable, who lay at the gate of 
the proud and wealthy sinner, (whose name is buried 
in oblivion,) might taste more exquisite delight, in his 
scanty crumbs, and in healing tongues of the dogs, 
than the unpityiug miser, in ail his delicious fare. 

But there are pleasures appropriated to the true 
christian ; joys which no stranger intermeddles with, 
in the exercise of pure and undented religion, which 
is not only a heightened of our delights, but is itself 
the greatest of any. Even as the sun imparts a 
brightness to every other object, and is himself the 
brightest of all. Whether he contemplates the de- 
lightful truths and ravishing mysteries of the gospel ; 
the banquet of the mind, sweeter than all honey :— or 
practises spiritual duties towards his neighbor, or his 
God; when he prays with fervent supplication, or 
praises with joyful lips, or hears in his lovely taberna- 
cles what God the Lord will say, or relieves the indi- 
gent for his Redeemer's sake, and comforts the dis- 
tressed : — or exercises christian graces; be it faith, 
that is attended with joy unspeakable ; or love, that 
is its own reward, and the fulfilling of the law ; or 
hope, that anticipates the joys above, in blessful ex- 
pectation, the surest anchor of the soul : — or mortifies 
fleshly lusts : — or resists temptations, triumphing over 
them with christian magnanimity : — or endures afflic- 
tions, with a becoming patience and cheerful resigna- 
tion : — he tastes more solid pleasures than ever the 
sensualist could boast. Pleasures that are true in 
fruition, fully answering the most sanguine expecta- 
tion. Pleasures, whose repetition does not cloy, and 
their continuance is not clogged with satiety. Plea- 
sures, v, hose review fills not the cheek with blushing, 



64 

feeing honorable and glorious as the immortal soul, and 
pure as the joys of angels. Pleasures, whose conse- 
quences are not dangerous — to the body, by wasting 
its beauty, or preying on its health ; — to the reputa- 
tions by fixing upon it an indellible stain ; — to the es- 
tate, by making a shipwreck of it in the horrid gulf of 
prodigality. Especially not dangerous to the soul, by 
darkening the mind, fattening the heart, searing the 
conscience, and exposing to eternal vengeance.— 
Pleasures, whose duration is not short; that can live 
in the winter of adversity, illuminate the valley of 
death, and pass into eternity. 

He that is acquainted with them, may leave unto 
the guilty adulterer his impure thoughts, his wanton 
looks, and his abominable works ; at which the mid- 
night veils her face, and the morning blushes. — May 
leave unto the beastly drunkard his flowing bowl, his 
sparkling wine, his. wD and sorrow, his babbling, his 
redness of eyes, his wounds without cause. — May 
leave unto the cursed swearer his bloody oaths ; which 
neither gratify the sense, nor afford the least equiva- 
lent to countervail the damnation of the soul.- — May 
leave to all the 'sons of sensuality, who count it plea- 
sure to riot in the day time, their consumed flesh, 
their sunk reputation, their beggared fortune, their 
darkened understanding, their seared conscience.— 
Seared, did I say ? See there that miserable wretch, 
extended on the bed of death, who lived in pleasure 
on the earth, and lulled his conscience asleep by a 
thousand opiates : but now, refreshed with her long 
slumber, she awakes ; and, as a giant refreshed with 
wine, she cries, she roars, she lifts up her voice like a 
trumpet. The astonished soul hears and trembles. — 
While sin and sickness, a dreadful pair, join their for- 
ces, assaulting at once his body and soul ; where, O 
where shall he flee for help ? He perceives his dreads 
ful mistake, but cannot deliver his own soul. In all 
the agony of hopeless despair, he resigns his vital 
breath, and dies without wisdom. 



65 

If another of these brethren in iniquity remains, 
even to the last, a stranger to remorse ; yet poor m 
the alleviation of his misery that he never lifts up his 
eyes, till he is in hell, being in torments. Ah, then t 
what avails him those fleeting joys of sense, which, 
though of short continuance, must now Ire expiated 
with everlasting pain ! 



ON AFFLICTION AND CONSOLATION. 

MANY are the afflictions of the righteous, and 
griefs on every side. Hear how an eminent apostle 
cries, wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me from 
this body of death ? And another extraordinary saint, 
I am the man thai have seen affliction. Into what deeps 
they are often plunged by sin, that worst of evils ?— 
Shall I speak of the sin that easily besets them ; their 
predominant corruption, Avhich can no more be van- 
quished, than the Israelites could drive out the Ca- 
naanites, dreadful with chariots of iron ! What sighs 
it fetches from the bottom of their heart ! Not to men- 
tion the trouble occasioned by scandalous outbreak- 
ings ; which waste the conscience, and might be dis- 
tressful even to an unrenewed mind, from which the 
saints themselves are not exempted ; there are provo- 
cations, which others think of trifling nature, that 
wear a grisly aspect in the eyes of the tender-hearted 
christian. When manifestations are abused, opportu- 
nities neglected, admonitions despised, convictions 
stifled, mercies and judgments not improved, how do 
they walk mournfully before the Lord of hosts ! It is 
true, the law cannot condemn them any more; yet 
still it can convince and reprove. When Moses was 
old and stricken in years, his eye waxed not dim, his 
force was not abated. His law, though old, loses no- 
thing of its severity. Sometimes they go mourning 
because of the oppression of the enemy of their salva- 
tion ; and the Comforter that should relieve their 
souls is for away. 

f2 



6(5 

How frequently they are under the frowns of 
Providence ! and though nothing seems to befal'them, 
but what is common to men, the wormwood and the 
gall of their affliction is not obvious unto the eye of 
the world. Perhaps they are living too much under 
the power of some particular corruption ; or some past 
iniquity is presented to them anew in all its horrid ag- 
gravations. Their flesh trembleth because of him, 
and they are afraid of his judgments. Comest thou 
peaceably, O Lord, in this thy visitation ? Art thou 
come to bring my sin to remembrance, and to slay my 
son? said the widow of Zarephath. We are verily 
guilty concerning our brother, said the distressed pa- 
triarchs. Nor is their adversary the devil for ordina- 
ry idle on such occasions of temptation. Intangled 
in the wilderness, like Israel \ the devil, like Pha- 
laoh, resolves to pursue them, and to revenge himself 
upon them. — But whro can enumerate all their sor- 
rows ? 

In such circumstances of distress, what healing 
hand shall pour the balm of peace ? To comfort the 
heart is more than to make a world, said the holy and 
tempted Luther. Consolation is a commodity of hea- 
ven, not to be imported but from the distant country 
of Immanuel. It is God alone, the God of peace, ta 
whom almighty power belongeth, that can comfort 
the soul. He it is whom an inspired writer styles, the 
God of all consolations, and ike God who comforteth 
ikeni that are cast down. The Father is he who loved 
us, and hath given us everlasting consolation. The 
Son is the consolation of Israel ; the Prince of peace ; 
and the true Noah, who comforts us concerning the • 
work of our hands. For this end he became a man 
of sorrows, and the chastisement of our peace was up- 
onirim. But eminently the Holy Ghost is the com- 
forter, who, like the dove of Noah, files with the olive 
branch of peace, to assure us the winter is past, and 
Uiq rain is over and "gone. Ministers are indeed the 
helpers of your joy; but it is God who wipes off all 
tears from off all faces* 



67 

.Whatsoever was written aforetime, was written 
for our instruction, that we through patience and com- 
fort of the scriptures might have hope. For this the 
Old, and for this the New Testament was written, 
that like two breasts of consolation, they might be 
sucked by the humble and contrite ones. But you 
are unable to lay hold upon a promise ; Io ! there is 
an attribute of God, an office of Christ, endeavor from 
thence to derive your consolation. 

ye heirs of the promise ! what strong consola- 
tion is allotted for you by your heavenly Father ! — ■ 
What divine peace; what unspeakable joy ; what full 
assurance may you attain ! Even in your godly sor- 
row, you taste most sweet refreshment, while you can 
say of laughter, it is mad. Rivers of waters did run 
down the eyes of the sweet singer of Israel ; and the 
spirit of mourning is the spirit of consolation also. — »- 
While here, you tread the vale of tears ; but with 
your rods, you have the hidden manna, which the 
world knoweth not of. Ye cannot indeed be assured 
of a perpetual triumph. Yet may your peace stand 
firm with God, while you have none from Satan, and 
in the world tribulation. But, O ye children of the 
King ! why should you be sad from day to day ? Will 
the King of heaven be pleased with you to sit in sack- 
cloth in his gate ? Is he an austere master, who 
grudges at your welfare ? Your Head is now a man 
©f joy as once he was a man of sorrows ; and shall 
not ye rejoice with him, who are the body of Christ, 
and members in particular ? Grieve not the holy Spi- 
rit by your dejected sorrow, who is the oil of gladness, 
and he who seals you to the day of redemption. Give 
not place to the devil, that melancholy spirit, who be- 
ing himself condemned to feed on dust, sore envies 
you your hidden manna; for we are not ignorant of 
liis devices. What flaming christians might you be, 
who are now like the smoking flax ? What lofty ce- 
dars, who now only resemble the bruised reed, because 
you are not careful to serve the Lord with gladness S 
ibr the joy of the Lord is your strength. Rejoice in llie 
Lord, ye righteous'; and again, I say-, rejoice* 



68 

Ye afflicted, tossed with tempests, and not com- 
forted, that walk in darkness, and have no light ; eon- 
cider how the husbandman, when he commits to the 
furrows of the field his grain, the hopes of the ensuing 
year ; he waiteth long, and hath great patience for it, 
till he receive the early and the latter rain. So, just 
so, light is sown for the righteous, and gladness for the 
upright in heart. 

Some comfort themselves with their lusts ; some 
with their worldly possessions ; the more refined mo- 
ralists with their duties. But, O ye sons of men, how 
long will ye love vanities ? How soon will your 
springs be dried up, that are not supplied from the 
Fountain of living waters ? As the flower of the 
grass, your comforts shall perish ; and as the gourd of 
Jonah shall they fade away, in the time of your great- 
est need. Especially ye who think to spin out of 
your bowels a robe of righteousness, to screen you 
from the angry vengeance of God, and pacify your 
consciences with duties of your own ; but despise the 
everlasting righteousness of the Redeemer; know that 
your hope shall be like tbe spider's web. Whereas 
the real christian, like the lilies of the field, he toils 
not, he spins not; yet far outshines Solomonj in all 
his glory : far excels the busy legalist, when vested 
with his most pompous performances. 

Wo to you, rich men, who trust in your hoarded 
heaps : for ye have received your consolation. All 
ye that rejoice in iniquity, let your laughter be turned 
into mourning, and your joy to heaviness. Alas ! 
your fleshly mirth will never bid you smile at death, 
nor turn your eye undaunted on the grave. And 
what will you do in the awful judgment, when God 
will laugh at your calamity ; and the merciful Media- 
tor afford you no relief ? "Because, when I called, 
ye refused ; and when I stretched out my hands, ye 
would not regard." Wherewith shall we comfort you, 
who are strangers to the consolation of Israel ? This 
is the children's bread, and dogs must not partake. — 
A precious oil it is, no vessel but the contrite heart 



69 

can hold. We will not put this new wine into old 
bottles, but into new bottles, that both may be pre- 
served. 

When others take up the timbrel and harp, and 
rejoice at the sound of the organ ; O heavenly word ! 
be thou my consolation. And though weeping may 
endure for a night ; yet with the rising day, my joy 
returns. A joy the world gives not, nor takes away. 
When every pleasurable enjoyment besides shall lan- 
guish and expire ; this passes over into eternity, great- 
ly triumphant -over death and the grave. No more 
shall the countenance be sad, nor the eye dim with 
tears, when the ransomed of. the Lord shall obtain joy 
and gladness, and sighing and sorrowing shall flee a- 
way. 



On locking at the things that are not seen. 

HE that looks at the things that are not seen, is 
a person who is endowed with a blessed and holy se- 
cond sight, by which he is distinguished from other 
men : and sees, not mournful objects, as coffins and 
corpses ; but such objects as are most cheering and 
delightful. The eyes of his understanding are en- 
lightened by the Holy Ghost, to know the things that 
the natural man perceiveth not ; the riches of the glo- 
ry of his inheritance in the saints. Though the good 
and the bad things of this vain world are always pres- 
sing on his senses, he is not chiefly influenced by 
them, as though they were the principal things. For 
the things above, and the things that are eternal, he 
judges to be no less real for their being invisible, and 
distant ; snid unspeakably the most important of all 
other things. He firmly believes, frequently thinks 
of, highly esteems, ardently desires, earnestly expects, 
and diligently labors after the enjoyment of them. — 
He bestows the cream of his thoughts in meditating 
upon them ; and talks about them? not by constraint* 



70 

when he is not able to avoid the discourse, but natu- 
rally, and with a ready mind. 

Some have thought him incapable of paying a 
sufficient attention to the necessary affairs of the 
world ; as though one could not be fervent in spirit, 
without being slothful in business. But this is a vile 
slander. For, moderate industry is not a diversion 
from serious religion, but a singular help unto it : and 
the spiritual man, who holds the plough, or handles 
the axe, is, even in these common actions, more holy 
than the carnal man in his most solemn devotions, 

He esteems a man much more because he is gra- 
cious, than because he is rich : and can never be in- 
duced to think, that proud sinners are happy, though 
they be elevated to the very summit of fortune. - He 
would much rather choose to see his children deepl} r 
tinctured with the principles of true religion, than put 
in a condition to make a figure in this world. If he 
is in adversity, he derives not his comfort from earthly 
enjoyments, but eternal things ; these are the hills to 
which he lifts his eyes, and from whence cometh his- 
aid. If he is in prosperity, his earthly blessings are 
not the chief source of his joy and happiness ! bat in 
this he rejoices, that his name is written in heaven. 

As he who ascends a high mountain, and from its 
top surveys the plains below, will think large fields 
but inconsiderable spots of land; so he who is set on 
these high places of eternity, and converses much 
with everlasting things, will regard, in a very diminu- 
tive light, the most important businesses of this tran- 
sitory life. His mind acquires a sublime turn, and an 
elevated way of thinking, not to be easily taken with 
slight and trifling vanities. 

By this blessed temper of mind, he is habitually 
disposed to perform spiritual duties; the frown is 
struck from the brow of death ; his mind is strongly 
fortified against afflictions of every sort ; and the edge 
of all temptations is most effectually blunted. Having 
obtained a view of that ineffably glorious prize of the 
Jiigli calling of God, he cannot possibly think any; 



71 

pains too great to reach it. For this he can instantly 
serve God day and night. For this he can both labor 
and suffer reproach ; take joyfully the spoiling of his 
goods - ; and sometimes even resign his breath in cruel 
flames. In vain does this present world spread her 
blandishments, and arm her face with frowns, to 
shake his steady purpose, who looks not at the things 
that are seen. What though the advantages of the 
world are present, and the advantages of religion are, 
in great measure, future ; yet this wise and enlighten- 
ed soul is at no loss which he should prefer. For, an 
eternal advantage, that will certainly come, is far to 
be preferred to a present one, that is of a short dura- 
tion. — O faith, it is thine to realise and render pre- 
sent the things that are invisible to the corporeal 
eye ! whether by reason of the nature of the things 
themselves, or by reason of their distance from us in 
time and place. By thee inspired, we can choose the 
sharpest afflictions before the most poignant plea- 
sures; and esteem the most grievous reproaches, 
greater riches than the peculiar treasure of most weal- 
thy kings. 



ON CHRISTIAN HOPE. 

LET us first attend unto those glorious objects at 
which she throws a wishful eye. These are not the 
fading honors ; the transitory pleasures ; or the uncer* 
tain riches of this world ; but what infinitely excels 
them all, the things that are not seen, that are eter* 
nal. All that is contained in the vast mines of the 
promise, and in the bowels of the Redeemer's; 
teousnei?, which is like the great mountains ; all that 
is comprehended under that most emphatical word 
salvation ; final perseverance in grace here, and e- 
verlastingjoys hereafter : are the blessings she teach- 
es the christian to wait for. Though surrounded with 
formidable enemies, he is persuaded they shall not se- 



72 

parate him from the love of Christ ; and cheeks every 
distrustful thought. Hope thou in God, my soul, he 
says ; for I shall yet praise him. If he takes a solita- 
ry walk in the church-yard, and views the silent 
graves, and mouldering bones ; and considering his 
latter end, recollects how soon even his bories shall 
be dry, and for his part he shall be cut off: though 
headlong sense, and unenlightened reason, would sug- 
gest that man lieth down, and awake th not again ; 
though there is hope of a tree when it is cut down, he 
sees with joyful heart the prisoners of the earth emer- 
ging from their long confinement; and with joyful lips, 
he utters that most blissfull expectation ; " thou wilt 
shew the path of life ; in thy presence is fulness 
of joy ; at thy right hand are pleasures for ever 
more." 

Whilst he thus anticipates the joys above, his 
towering hopes are not supported by the sand. For 
God, and Christ, and every smiling promise, is his 
foundation. But chiefly, he is begotten again to this 
lively hope by thy resurrection, blessed Jesus. Thou 
art the rock on which he casts this anchor. And 
shall I call the faithful promises of the word, the ca- 
bles that secure it ? He shuns alike the abhorred gulf 
of despair ; and the dangerous rock of presumption, 
infamous for shipwrecks. And by the gentle breath- 
ings of the heavenly wind, he is wafted at length into 
the fair havens of life and immortality. 

What storms of adversity will he not defy, having 
this hope as an anchor of the soul ? What fight of af- 
flictions can he not endure, defended by this impene- 
trable helmet ? whilst he poises the exceeding great 
and eternal weight of glory, against his light and mo- 
mentary sufferings ; against the spoiling of his goods, 
the better and enduring substance ? If, for the hope of 
Israel, he is bound in chains, he glories in his fetters. 
Amid the ocean of eternal delights, sunk are the sor- 
rows of the world ; as in a sea of honey, a drop of vi- 
negar is swallowed up and lost. 



73 

Animated by this same grace, he stirs up himself 
in every duty ; and is not slothful in the business of 
his salvation. Whilst he hopes for thy salvation, O 
God, he does thy commandments. The bringing in 
of this best hope, strengthens his weak hands, and con- 
firms his feeble knees. 

How greatly he disdains to wallow in the puddle 
of sin ! The darts of temptation fall ineffectual to the 
ground. In danger he is courageous ; in sorrow he is 
moderate ; in duty he is diligent ; in tribulation he is 
patient .; and even in death he smiles. 



On the vain hopes of the hypocrite. 

O THE vain and presumptuous hopes of sin- 
ners ! You inherit the kingdom of heaven ! You as- 
cend to the hill of the Lord ! You enter in-o the hea- 
venly Canaan, and inherit his holy mountain ! AYho 
are unrighteous : — who are of an Egyptian nature, 
hankering after the onions and the garlic ; — whose 
hands are not clean ; — whose hearts are not pure ;-— 
who are alienated from the divine life :■ — who are dren- 
ched in sensuality; — who are estranged from the 
womb ;— who say to the Almighty, depart from us ; — 
whose carnal minds are enmity against God ; — never 
formed for himself; — never made meet to be partakers 
of the undented inheritance ; — never wrought for this 

self-same thing. Go seek a Mahometan paradise. ■ 

Christianity affords you no ground of hope. These 
pure regions of blessedness will eternally exclude you 
from their blessed abodes. Ye grovelling sons of earth, 
who never deemed yourselves strangers and pilgrims 
here ; who embrace the dunghill of this world as your 
portion; how can the eternal Majesty but be ashamed 
to call himself your God ?- How can his heart be tow* 
ards you ? How can he make you cleave unto himself, 
as the girdle to the loins of a man ? Go reconcile 
light with darknsss. Bid nre and water meet in mutu- 

G 



74 

&1 embraces. Then may righteousness and itnrigh^ 
teousness have fellowship together. Then may Christ 
and Belial agree. Then may evil dwell with God 3 
and the foolish stand in his presence. 

Make the absurd and impossible supposition, that 
the eternal Sovereign should reverse his high decree ; 
— should bely his faithful word, rescind his threaten- 
ing ;— or, which is all one thing, should set open unto 
you the door of paradise, and admit you into that place 
of blessedness ; jet where could you fly from the guilt 
of your consciences? where from the carnality of your 
hearts ? 

Where from the guilt of your consciences ? If 
you ascend to heaven, lo ! it is there ; as well as tho* 
you made your bed in hell. How couldst thou hold up 
thy ashamed countenance towards his awful face ? — 
Would not his pure eyes flash confusion upon you, 
and strike you through with a dart, when you touched 
this mountain of his holiness ? 

But though thy conscience, O wicked man, were 
supposed to be as secure then, &s now it is; still hap- 
piness is far removed from thee. For, who will re- 
concile thy carnal, heart to the spirituality of heaven- 
ly joys ? 

O ye delightful mansions of the blessed, how 
would your charms be lost on him, whose soul within 
him, were full of sin, the abomination that maketh de- 
solate ! 

What consolation could he find in the society of 
the heavenly inhabitants : there are the holy angels. 
There are the spirits of the just, escaped from a sinful 
and vain world. There are the general assembly and 
church of the first-born. You never loved them here. 
You despised and hated them, when their holiness 
was but imperfect. You hated and despised them for 
the sake of their holiness. How can you take plea- 
sure in their company, when they are perfectly like 
him ? 

Nor would the employment of the redeemed con- 
duce one whit move to thy happiness, O unsanctified 



75 

soul! How couldst thou dwell with ever-new delight in 
the contemplation of that God, who was not in all thy 
thoughts ? — Of that Redeemer, who was despised and 
rejected by thee ? — Of these awful mysteries, which 
were never revealed unto thee in their native sweet- 
ness and glory ? How couldst thou join in the song of 
salvation, when the voice of melody was never heard 
in thy dwelling ; and praise in thy lips was never 
comely ? 

Be merciful, O God, to miserable sinners* 

Rouse them from their slumber. Awaken them from 
their deiirious dreams of happiness hereafter, without 
a present participation of thy divine nature. O gra- 
cious God, enlighten their eyes ; convince them of 
their fond delusion, before thou vindicate thy own ho- 
liness and truth with fiery indignation. For, " thorn 
art not a God that hast pleasure in wickedness, nei- 
ther shall evil dwell with thee ; the foolish shall not 
stand in thy sight. Thou hatest all workers of ini- 
quity. Thou wilt destroy them that speak leasing. 
Thou, Lord, will abhor the bloody and deceit fa! 
man." 



The character of a hypocrite. 

HE is a pretender to those good qualifications of 
which he is really destitute, and a dissembler of those 
vices which he secretly practises. He is that in the 
church, which a knave is in the state. The one is 
not fit for civil society ; nor the other for christian 
communion. Were he to appear in his real colors, 
men would clap their hands at him, and hiss him out 
of his place. Therefore he paints his face, like Jeze- 
bel, with a varnish of goodly words, of sanctified looks, 
of actions seemingly benevolent and devout. He 
prays with great fluency of expression ; you would 
think him an angel for fervency and rapture ; but it 
is only in the presence of others, And though his 



76 

words are flaming, his heart is ice. He give* alms in- 
deed, but must always take witnesses upon it. He is 
very punctual in going to church, where he seats him- 
self in some remarkable corner, in order to attract all 
eyes upon himself. He seems to be all attention and 
composure : he lifts up his hands and eyes in a reli- 
gious manner ; or covers his face, or heaves a sigh, 
or sends forth a groan. how mightily he is impres- 
sed with the sermon, if you believe his face; while, 
in the meanwhile, he is indulging his lusts, and his 
beart going out after his coveteousness ! 

When he fasts he assumes a sorrowful air, and a 
disfigured face ; and is grieved for sin as much as the 
bulrush when it hangs the head. When he is in reli- 
gious company, he talks of his experience, the plagues 
of his heart, and complains of the great decay of reli- 
gion in the clay. — He is a most uncharitable censurer 
of others> while he practises far greater vilianies him- 
self. 

All his religion, at least the greatest part of it, is 
left behind him in the temple, or in the street ; for he 
neither carries it to his family, nor to his closet.— lis 
is like the rainbow, whose glorious colors are reflected 
from a dark vapor, only when the sun shines. Not- 
withstanding Ms ostentation, he hates the light ; and 
refuses to come into it except when his mask is on. — 
He cannot endure a minister, who rakes into his con- 
science ; nor a christian friend, who gives him faithful 
admonition. — When he is reproved for any miscar* 
riage, he says to the reprover, it is none of your busi- 
ness ; meddle with your own matters. Were it not 
for his eager desire of applause from men, and the 
roaring of his angry conscience, he would bid adieu 
to all the duties of religion, whether private or pub- 
lic. 

His most admired and pompous services can find 
no. acceptance with God ; and his most fervent devo- 
tions are no more regarded, than if they were the how 
lings of a dog. — What is all his religion, but like the 
kiss of Judas, or the bowing of the knee by the c 



i 4 

fiers of tlie Lord of glory ? He makes God an idol ; 
and considers the creature like a deity, whom he wor- 
ships and serves more than the Creator. He is like a 
grave, which may be covered by a white sepulchral 
etone of polished marble, and engraven with some ly- 
ing panegyric for an epitaph ; but within a ghastly 
corpse presents itself to your eye, or noisome stench 
offends the nostril. 

The longer }^ou grow in his acquaintance, your 
respect for him will lessen ; and at length, perhaps, 
will turn to a just hatred and aversion. For he is 
sometimes discerned and despised by men, but always 
by God. 



The character of a sincere christian. 

HE is one who needs not affect to appear in a 
character foreign to himself ; nor to conceal that cha- 
racter which really agrees to him. He studies to ap- 
prove himself to God, and does not value himself upon 
the applause of men. Fame and reputation he will 
not court, but will deserve them. He will not hunt 
after them, but they will follow him through the deep 
est shades. His real glory is not obvious to any eye, 
but the penetrating eye of God, who delights in him, 
approves him, and commends him. When he prays, 
he pours out his heart ; when he praises, he makes 
melody in his heart unto the Lord. And his heart is 
bigger than his words. He is not an enemy to public 
religion ; but secret devotion is an essential part of 
his happiness. He not only mourns over these sins 
which himself has committed, as Ahab did ; but he 
laments for the sins of others, of which he is personally 
innocent; like Christ, who wept over the sins of Jeru- 
salem, though himself knew no sin. He indeed re- 
gards every the smallest precept of the law; but when 
he tithes mint, anise and cummin, he neglects not the 
weightier matters. He is not for dividing religion, 

g2 



78 

like the pretended mother of the child, who thereby e- 
videnced she had no interest in the babe. Though 
lie has the remainders of sin in him, hypocrisy not 
excepted, he has not a heart and a heart, nor is he a 
monster with a double mind. His religion is not the 
fulsome compliments of a well bred gentleman, who 
is your humble servant, glad of your welfare, and is 
extremely sorry for your slightest inconvenience ; 
but like the tender affection of an ingenuous friend. 

As the beauty of Absalom surpassed the daub- 
ings of Jezebel ; so does the holiness of the sincere 
christian excel the painting of the hypocrite. He is 
not like a smoky chimney, with a marble frontispiece ; 
nor like a rotten grave, with a marble monument ; but 
like a mountain replete with precious ore, while per- 
haps, the surface is barren and unsightly. He does 
not want to bring down the word of God to his pri- 
vate inclinations ; but is desirous of bringing his pri- 
vate inclinations to be judged by the law and the tes- 
timony. He is not ashamed to own, that he was once 
in an error; nor afraid to know the worst about himself; 
but, on the contrary, it is the language of his heart, 
what I know not, teach thou me. 

Though he is far from ostentation on the one 
Land, and prudent enough not to blaze abroad his se- 
cret faults on the other; yet he loves to come to the 
light, and needs not be ashra ed, though all the world 
were a sun. Though he should not, with Balaam, 
build seven altars, and offer up a bullock and a ram 
on every one ; but, like Abraham, content himself 
with one altar, and a single victim ; jet is his sacri- 
fice accepted. His turtle-doves, and young pigeons, 
are no less grateful than thousands of rams. Silk and 
purple, and even goats hair, for the service of his sanctu- 
ary, are not despised of the Lord, when his circumstan- 
ces cannot afford precious stones and gold. — His in- 
ward groans, his secret sighs, are a powerful rhetoric, 
effectual and fervent. He puts their tears in a boltle; 
and a cup of cold water, given to a thirsty disciple, 
•hall not lose its reward. His rejoicing is the testi- 



79 

mony of his conscience, when he hears the scorning ©f 
the people. Death, with all his grisly features, can* 
not stare him out of countenance : and he needs not 
be afraid of the awful judgment. Though like Josiah, 
he should die in battle ; yet he comes to his grave m 
peace. 



ON CHRISTIAN PRUDENCE. 

THERE is a prudence which is so essential to 
the being of a christian, that it is but another name 
for that faith by which he lives. He that is wise un- 
to salvation ; he that knows thee the only true God, 
and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent ; he that is in- 
structed in the kingdom of heaven, to understand the 
truths he should believe, the duties he should practise, 
and the happiness he should pursue ; he — he is a pru- 
dent man, though he should be neither a wise econo- 
mist in matters of this world, a plodding statesman* 
nor a cunning artificer ; for his God doth instruct him 
to discretion; and though a fool, in his own and o- 
thers opinion, he errs not in the way of holiness. 

But there is a prudence of a much narrower 
kind ; which, if it be not essential, is highly ornamen- 
tal to the christian, in the whole tenor of his life. 

By this he does not so much avoid immoralities, as 
improprieties of behavior ; which, though they should 
not make him guilty in the eye of God, would, not- 
withstanding, render him contemptible among men. — 
In him the wisdom of the serpent is happily mar- 
ried with the simplicity of the dove ; whilst he de- 
fends himself from the injuries of the world, without 
incurring the guilt of being himself injurious. 

There is not perhaps any one description that 
comprehends more of his real character, than this* 
that his heart discerns both time and judgment It is a 
maxim worthy to drop from the pen of the wisest of 
all men, " that for every thing iliere is a season* and 



80 

a time for every purpose under heaven.' 5 This ex- 
cellent precept he well understands, as knowing that, 
let an action be ever so good, if it is misplaced, and 
thrown out of its due order, it gathers an awkwardness, 
and exposes to contempt. 

He knows when to be serious, and when to be 
cheerful ; — when to be zealous, and when to be mode- 
rate ; — when to be deliberate, and when to be hasty ; 
■ — when to be singular, and when to be conformed ; — 
when to speak, and when to refrain from speaking ;— 
when to reprove, and when to commend ; — when to 
give, and when to withhold ; — and never can, with 
a good grace, become the object of contempt and deri- 
sion. 

For, by this prudent timing of every word, and 
action, he appears to every impartial spectator serious, 
but not dumpish ; — cheerful, yet not frothy ; — zeal- 
ous, yet not fiery ; — njoderate, but not lax ; — delibe- 
rate, but not lazy ; — active, but not rash ; — singular, 
but not nice ; — courteous, but not cringing ; — noble, 
but not proud ; — frugal, but not covetous ; — devout, 
but not superstitious ; — resigned, but not negligent ; — 
fixed, but not dogmatical ;— liberal, but not prodigal. 
He speaks, but he is not talkative. He keeps si- 
lence, but he is not sullen. He reproves, but he 
breaks not the head. He commends, but he puffs not 
up. His words are few, but they are as goads, and as 
nails fastened in a sure place. Sometimes, indeed, 
he may be betrayed into an improper action, when he 
trusts too much to his own understanding, or gives the 
reins to his unruly passions ; than which there are no 
greater adversaries to prudence of every kind. But 
he improves even by his blunders, whilst with shame 
he recollects them, and resolves against the like fail- 
urea in time coming. He searches the scriptures^ 
which can give even to the young man knowledge 
and discretion. He mortifies his lusts, and moderates 
hi3 passions. He maintains a life of communion with 
God. Therefore shall he guide his affairs with dis- 
cretion unto the end ; therefore shall he de-al prudeat- 



81 

ly ; he shall be extolled, and be rery high. Good 
men shall rejoice to see none occasion of stumbling in 
him ; and they that desire occasion shall be ashamed? 
because it is cut off. Go thou and do likewise. 



ON CHRISTIAN DILIGENCE. 

THE diligent christian is a person who looks up- 
on time as the most invaluable of all treasures, and up- 
on the salvation of his soul, as the most interesting 
business of life. He assigns not the dregs of his time 
to the exercise of devotion, while the flower of it is 
dedicated unto the pursuit of worldly employments ; but 
he serves God with the best he can afford. He does 
not say unto the duties of religion, as the partial chris- 
tians of the apostle James said to the poor man in vile 
raiment, when he came into their assembly, stand ye 
there, or, sit here, under my footstool ; while the du- 
ties of his civil calling are invited, with the man that 
wears the gold ring, and gay clothing, to sit in a good 
place. He seeks first the kingdom of God, and his 
righteousness ? and other things can only claim a se- 
condary care. Like Solomon, he first builds the house 
of God, and then his own house. As the shekel of the 
sanctuary was double to the common shekel ; so, in 
the matters of eternity, he doubles the diligence that 
he uses in the matters of time. Religion is not his by- 
work, nor a matter of mere amusement, which he may, 
or may not attend unto, as he pleases. He knows that 
in all labor there is profit ; and that neither the bles- 
sings of providence, nor grace, will fall into the mouth 
of the yawning sluggard. 

Dost thou not see, O my soul ! with what inces- 
sant toil the children of men acquire their worldly 
riches ? what dangers they defy ? what difficulties 
they surmount ? with what laborious efforts they hew 
out to themselves broken cisterns that can hold no 
water ? They put forth their hand upon the rock, and 



82' 

overturn the very mountains. They are not afraid of 
killing damps, nor overflowing floods, that their eye 
may see every precious thing. And shall I not much 
more give diligence to obtain the prize of my high cal- 
ling, which cannot be valued with the gold of Gphir, 
the precious onyx, or the sapphire ? How is he filled 
with conscious shame at such a thought ! that worldly 
vanities appear with more attractive charms in the 
eyes of worldly men, than the things above in his. 
eyes ; and should inspire them with greater ardor to 
obtain them ! — But especially, when he considers the 
&hame, the pain, the sorrow, and the unknown ago- 
nies of the Redeemer, to compass our salvation ; he 
can no more regard it as a matter of indifferency, that 
cost the Savior so dear. Did he think my salvation 
worthy of so much blood ? and shall I think it worthy 
of no more but a few languid endeavors, slothful wishes, 
lazy desires ? He looks upon no time as incapable of 
religious improvement. Even the seasons of worldly 
avocations are sometimes blessed seasons of inter- 
course with heaven. As the image of Cesar was en- 
fctaniped upon the smallest coin, as well as the great- 
est ; so the beauty of the Lord his God is stamped 
upon the minutest actions of life, and establishes eve- 
vy work of his hand. 

Holiness, like a beautiful and shining varnish* 
spread over the colorings of a picture, imparts a hea- 
venly lustre to his whole conversation. Instead of 
contriving excuses to blunt the edge of the precept, 
and still the clamors of his own conscience, when call- 
ed to any necessary duty, he opens his mouth, and 
pants for God's commandments. He leaps upon the 
mountains, and skips over the hills of difficulty. He 
esteems every day lost in which he has done nothing 
for the glory of God, the edification of his neighbor, or 
his own salvation. The time which is employed by 
others in vain jangling, and the canvassing of idle 
controversies, he bestows upon the mortifying of his 
earthly affections, and holding fellowship with God. — 
When engaged in prayer, or any holy duty, he puts a- 



83 

holy constraint upon the backward flesh ; he rallies 
his wandering thoughts, awakens his drowsy powers ; 
and takes, as it were by violence the kingdom of hea- 
ven. He considers no attainment of religion as fit to 
be rested in ; and, in the matters of salvation, he 
makes exception to the rule, be content nitli such things 
as you have. 

When old age shall clothe his head in snow, and 
furrow his face with wrinkles, the retrospect of his 
past life will not resemble a barren and unsightly de- 
sert, but a cultivated garden. He is £t credit to the 
religion he professes ; and in some good measure, by 
his edifying life, and confirming conversation, supplies 
the want of miracles. But though he works out his 
own salvation with fear and trembling, it is not by his 
own strength ; nor does he look upon his diligence, 
however great, as meritorious of eternal life : for, as 
Christ hath wrought all his works for him ; so it is 
God that worketh in him both to will and to do of his 
good pleasure., 



ON SLOTHFULNESS, 

Or, the christian stirred up to diligence and activity* , 

OPEN thy drowsy eyes, thou yawning sluggard, 
spring from thy lazy couch, on which thou turnest, 
like the creaking door upon the hinges. Is eternity 
nothing ? Are heavenly joys of such a trifling na- 
ture ; are hellish torments so easy to be endured ; that 
faint endeavors, languid resolutions, empty desires, 
are a sufficient method to lay hold upon the one, and 
to avoid the other ? 

See with what unwearied diligence the children 
of this world prosecute their temporary interests. — 
They rise up early ; they sit up late ; they eat the 
bread of s6rrow. For what ? To acquire either the 
necessaries, or the superfluities of this present transi* 
tory life : whether their taste be riches, or honor, or 



34 

pleasure. What hardships will the seafaring man re* 
fuse to undergo, upon the howling waste of waters, a- 
nimated with the prospect of heaping up silver as the 
dust ? They are not deterred from their steady pur- 
pose, though you should represent unto them, in live- 
liest images, the chosen terrors of the great deep ; 
though you should remind them of the roaring tem- 
pests, the treacherous rock, or latent quicksands, 
dreadful to ships, they are not discouraged. They 
despise the southern heat, and the northern cold.-— 
They regard not the labors of the day, nor the wateh- 
ings of the night. 

Shall we mention, next, the incredible fatigues of 
the campaign, while the soldier pursues his way to 
fame and glory, through troops of hostile spears, re- 
gardless of the fierce countenances of the enemy, the 
flashing of the swords, and the thunder of the roaring 
engines, which spread desolation all before them ? — 
With what amazing activity ; with what intense ap- 
plication, are the intrigues of statesmen planned and 
executed, while they seek for glory, honor, and im- 
mortality ? Alas ! shall these be wiser in their gene- 
ration, in matters of time, than the professed children 
of light in matters of eternity ?. 

But dart your eyes down to the centre, to those 
accursed spirits who dwell in darkness, and are pun- 
ished with an everlasting destruction, (for even an e- 
nemy may thus befriend us with instruction,) with 
what vigilance they work in the children of disobedi- 
ence ! with what diligence they exert themselves in 
dishonoring of God, in destruction of men, while they 
traverse the earth in quest of mischief, as the hungry 
lion paces the desert round and round, if haply he can 
find a beast of chase whom he may devour .! 

Throw next your eyes toward these happy re- 
gions where angels reside, and where the spirits of 
the just made perfect eternally reap the fruits of their 
Redeemer's purchase. With what alacrity they do 
his will ! Swift as the lightning's glimpse they run ; 
they fly. Hear how they swell the note in the trium- 



phani song of Moses and the Lamb ! How nimbly 
they touch the vocal strings ! Both day and night 
they persevere in their exalted exercise, while they 
serve him, with utmost ardor, in the temple of the 
skies. 

But though the rational creation were dumb, the 
inanimate creation would cry out against the slothful 
christian. The golden sun rejoices as a strong man 
to run a race, and calls you to run the race that is set. 
The silver moon witnesses against you in the hea- 
vens, as she walks in brightness amidst the sparkling 
stars. All the rivers run into the sea, which con* 
stantly either ebbs or flows, but never stagnates in la- 
zy slumbers, never fails to wash the shore with his 
returning tide. 

The God whom we serve is the living God. A- 
w r ay then with this deadness and formality. " Hast 
thou not known, hast thou not heard, that the ever- 
lasting God, the Creator of all the ends of the earth, 
fainteth not, neither is weary," in constantly uphold- 
ing, hy his all-powerful word, this universal frame of 
nature ? The reins of government, whether in the 
natural or moral world, he never drops from his hand ; 
but, by his powerful energy, directs their various mo- 
tions, in such mysterious sort as his eternal wis- 
dom did contrive. Shall man, that noble crea- 
ture, the peculiar glory of whose nature is to wea: a 
the divine resemblance, to be the very image of his 
Maker, shall he so far degenerate from his all-perfect 
pattern, as to give up himself to a lazy torpor, and 
shameful inactivity ? 

All beings in the circle of existence, from the 
high Creator unto the meanest creature, with one har- 
monious voice, awake thee from thy slumber. Go to 
the .ant, the little, the despicable, and yet laborious 
ant ; consider her ways, O thou sluggard! her painful, 
prudent ways ; consider of them and be wise. 

Ye have the prophets and the apostles of the 
Lord for your ensamples. The noble company of 
mattyra, and all the sanctified ones who have gone 

IT 



8G 

before you, who have finished their course, who hare 
fought the good fight, who have kept the faith ; and 
now, through faith and patience, inherit the promises. 
But a greater than any saint or apostle, prophet or 
martyr, is here. For, consider the apostle and high 
priest of your profession, Christ Jesus ; who not only 
inculcated by his doctrine an holy fervor and alacrity 
in matters of eternity but exemplified it in his life.- — 
Arduous was his work, and difficult was his underta- 
king ; yet he did not fail, nor was discouraged, 
till he could say, it is finished. Had he been slothful, 
then wo had been to us, here and hereafter. He went 
about doing good in the days of his humiliation. He 
suffered no day to pass, in which he did not accom- 
plish some part of the work which the Father gave 
him to do. Retired upon . the solitary mountain, he 
prayed whole nights away. How fervently he ad- 
dressed the throne of his Father ! How pathetically 
he declared the name of God unto his brethren, while 
the listening crowds were lost in deep attention ! 



©*f THE IMPROVEMENT OF TIME* 

O TIME, how short is thy continuance ! how 
. uncertain thy stay ! 

Indeed, if we compare thee with the transitory 
fashions of this world, thy face is full of wrinkles, and 
thou art the oldest of things ; yet art thou but an in- 
fant in comparison of eternity past ; yet art thou but 
a moment in comparison of eternity to come. Not 
many thousand years ago, the voice of the Almighty 
gave thee birth, when he spake, and it was done ; he 
commanded, and it stood fast. — Yet a little while, the 
voice of the arch-angel, and the last trumpet's sound 
shall give thee death, and thou shalt be no more. — « • 
But, O how scanty is the share we have even in thy 
short duration ! To us Ihou dwindlest down to three- 
score years and ten; nor can we assure ourselves t 
von $f this little spap« 



87 

While we, poor dreaming mortals, supinely yawn 
on our beds of sloth, forgetful of the difficult and ne- 
cessary work of our salvation ; thou holdest on thy 
unrelenting career, swifter than the weaver's shuttle, 
the nimble arrow, or the eagle that hasteth to her 
prey. 

None ever heard the tread of thy nimble feet, nor 
the sounding of thy wings. Though men have given 
thee a tongue, and thou speakest not once or twice, 
but twenty times in a day ; yet man perceiveth it not. 
We never remember, that the striking of the clock is 
the knell of our departed hours ; and w r e say, with 
the sluggard, " yet a little sleep, a little slumber, a 
little folding of the hands to sleep." 

Could we recal thy steps, could we retrieve thy 
loss, perhaps our folly might admit some shadow of 
excuse. If our work might be accomplished with the 
slightest application ; and if we were not at all ac- 
countable for the improvement we make of this most 
precious talent, then might our shameful prodigality 
be a more pardonable error. But since all those hopes 
are the most foolish and chimerical which can possi- 
bly enter into human breasts, to what shall we a- 
scribe our listless languor, but to the mo3t desperate 
infatuation and stupidity ? 

Happy the man w r ho has a heart given him to use 
this price put into his hand to get wisdom ; and who 
is skilled in the holy merchandise of redeeming the 
time ! There are two maxims to which, in the course 
Of his life, he stedfastly adheres. 

The first is, that no space of time is to be left 
wholly blank and void, but every part of it ought to 
be filled up with doing good. He considers his time 
as an estate, or tract of ground, that ought to be 
diligently cultivated, or manured ; and no parcel of it, 
though ever so barren, incapable of some improve- 
ment. He allows to the innocent demands of nature, 
for sleep and recreation, no more than is necessary, to 
recruit its languishing powers. Every day he esti- 
mates as lost, w r hich has not produced some action? • 



m 

that imports him as a rational immortal creature, lets 
ding to promote either the glory of God, the good of 
his neighbor, or the salvation of his own soul. He 
does not content himself in being diligent merely in 
the business of his civil calling, but to his power 
he does good unto all men ; if the ignorant are to be 
instructed : — if the unruly are to be warned ; — if the 
weak are to be supported ;■ — if the disconsolate are to 
be comforted ; — if the needy are to be relieved ; — if 
innocence is to be vindicated from unjust aspersions $ 
■ — if mistaken prejudices are to be removed ;? — and an- 
gry passions soothed. But chiefly acts of devotion ; 
hearing or reading the word* pouring out his heart in 
prayer to a reconciled God : — >these are his favorite 
employments, and the portions of time employed ia 
then*, the golden spots of his existence. A day in his 
courts, he esteems as better than a thousand. 

The second is, that no opportunity of time be suf- 
fered to slip. As " to every thing there is a season, 
and a time for every purpose under heaven :" these 
opportunities he lays hold upon, as the calls of provi- 
dence to do good, which will be quickly over and 
gone. In a word, he is hasty in beginning, and vigo- 
rous in pursuing every good work, and every laudable 
enterprise, but chiefly the work of his salvation. Eve- 
ry day he considers as a new life. He cares not so 
much how long time he lives in the world, as how 
well he employs it ; as w T eil knowing, that it is a pre- 
lude either to a joyful or disconsolate eternity. 



The superior and distinguishing advantages of the chris- 
tian in this life. 

IT is true, there are beasts which excel us in 
bulk of stature, in perfection of sense, in vigor of 
nervesj.in swiftness of their motion. The inhabitants 
of air are accommodated with wings ; of water, with 
fins. — What then ! are we not still the emperor? of 



89 

the world ? Yes, we are. Reason asserts our supe- 
riority ; and reduces the most fierce, the most un- 
wieldly, the most untractable of the brutal kind, under 
our yoke. By reason we put bits in the horse's 
mouth ; tame the elephant, conquer the lion. Birds 
and fishes are catched in their own elements, and 
served up to our tables. This heavenly gift maintains 
our glorious prerogative. We ascend where they 
dare not soar, and trace the paths of the stars. Nor 
are the goods of fortune, glory, learning, much unlike 
the qualifications of the irrational kind, when compa-' 
red with the superior excellencies of true wisdom* 
goodness, and religion. Be it so ; the christian is not 
versant in mathematics, in history, in systems of phi- 
losophy ; not a logician, not an orator. Re never 
stormed a town, nor gained a victory. He has not 
what men call riches and honors. His clothes are not 
besmeared with gold. He plows not half a country 
with his oxen. He is not addressed with the high 
and sounding titles of your lordship, and your grace. 
He lives remote from courts and palaces, and is not 
surrounded with a numerous train of servants. The 
circle of his acquaintance is small. He lives not in 
the annals of time. He is not talked of among dis- 
tant nations. But when he dies, he is forgotten. — -— 
Yet let him not envy the great, the wealthy, the re- 
nowned ; for, if true riches, if glorious honors, if refi- 
ned pleasures can make him blessed, he is a happy 
man. He is not learned : but he is wise in what im- 
ports him most to know, as an immortal creature, 
wise unto salvation.- — Behold his knowledge f for as 
the twinkling stars of night are eclipsed by the glorious 
star of day ; so is the wisdom of the world, by that 
which cometh from above. He is not powerful : but 
he hath taken the kingdom of heaven by violence, laid 
hold on eternal life, and subdued his earthly affections-..- 
Behold the wonders of his might ! He is not wealthy r- 
but he is rich in faith, rich in hope : contentment is 
his natural wealth. He complains not of unsatisfied 
desires.— Behold his riches! He is not honorable r> 
h 2 



&0 

but God is his father, Christ his brother, angels his 
servants, righteousness is his garment, holiness his 
ornament, the cross is his coat of arms, heaven is his 
inheritance, christian is his stile. — Behold his digni- 
ty ! He is not renowned : but God commends him, 
angels applaud him. His glory is not bounded by the 
stars, nor ended by the conflagration. Behold his 
lame ! In bondage, he is free ; in poverty he is rich ; 
in obscurity he is illustrious. — Happy man ! enjoy 
thyself in the possession of true feiieit}^ ; while others- 
hunt after the shadow, and weary themselves in 
vain. 



On the certainty of the christian's perseverance in Ms: 
happy state. 

" FEAR not, thou worm Jacob ; I will help 
thee, saith the Lord thy Redeemer, the holy One of 
Israel." O heavenly soul, who art redeemed not with 
corruptible things, such as silver and gold, but with 
the precious blood of Christ ; who are sanctified of 
God the Father f whose faith however weak, is jet 
unfeigned ; know, to thy unspeakable comfort, no 
more thou shaft become a child of wrath, or slave of 
sin. No, sooner shall the mountains depart, being 
torn from their deep foundations ; and the perpetual 
Mils shall sooner be removed ; sooner shall the sun, 
the glorious parent of the day ; the moon, the silver 
regent of the night ; be extinguished in their habita- 
tion, and stars rush from the darkened sky. 

Your adversaries are many ; your strength is 
small ; your fears are multiplied ; yet shall the prin- 
ciple of life, the habit of grace, the seed of God, re- 
main. Ke whom you love, whom you fear, whom you 
serve, is aule, is willing, to keep you from falling.— 
He who has begun the good work in you, will main- 
tain, will increase, will accomplish the life of grace, 
*n.d death of sin, laieebted you may be. like a brui- 



reed ; a smoaking flax ; a withered tr€e, whose 
fruits and leaves are nippen by surly winter ; but you 
shall not be destroyed. Rejoice not against then?, ye 
enemies of their salvation ; triumph not over them, ye 
powers of darkness ; for though they fall, they shall 
arise again. 

Question n$t his power. Thus saith the faithful 
and true Witness, my father is greater than all ; and 
none is able, whether by power or guile, to pluck them 
out of my father's hand, John x, 29. Is any thing too 
hard for the Lord, who spoke into existence this solid 
earth, and yonder glorious orbs ? — who holds them in 
the hollow of his hand ? How many are the wonders 
he has done, both in the heights above, and deeps be- 
neath ! but has he produced, and shall he be unable io 
preserve the vital principle, though like a living spark 
amidst the ocean of corruption ? 

Doubt not his will more than his power. It is 
the will of God your sanctiiication. For, lo ! a Tri- 
nity of persons are in concert, as to produce, so to 
maintain thy grace. 

If there be any immutability of thy purpose ; if 
any stability of thy covenant ; if any veracity of thy 
promise, O eternal Father! we shall not die, but live. 
From the beginning hast thou chosen them to salva 
lion ; and it is not possible they should be deceived, 
even by those impostors who do great signs and won- 
ders, Matthew xxiv, 24. Once hast thou sworn by 
thy holiness ; thou wilt not lie unto the mystical Da 
vid, that he shall see hi3 seed, and that they shall be 
established before thee. Thou wilt not retake thy 
gift of thine eternal Son ; for thou art not a man that 
thou should repent. But, in what smiling promises 
hast thou plighted thy veracity, and declared the per- 
petuity of thy counsel ? " I will be to them a God i 
I will give them one heart and way. to fear me all the 
days of their life ; and I will make an everlasting cc 
venant with them, that I will not turn away from 
them to do them good ; and I will put my fear in their 
hearts, and they shall not deport from me for ever- 



92 

Jef. S^xil, 38. For the mountains shall depart, and 
the hills shall be removed, but my loving kindness 
shall not depart from thee, and the covenant of my 
peace shall not be removed, saith the Lord, that hath 
mercy on thee, Isa. liv, 10. 

And shouldst not thou, O blessed Jesus ! pre- 
serve with the most inviolable regard the gift of thy 
heavenly Father ? Too dear they cost thee, O suf- 
fering Son of God! to suffer any, the least believer, 
to fall away and perish. For them thou left the 
skies ; for them didst weep, and sweat great drops of 
blood, and groan, and die. And shall they not perse- 
vere unto the end ? Yes : if prayers, if intercessions 
can ought avail. Holy Father ', keep them through thine 
own name. Thus he addressed the glorious throne, 
while yet a sojourner of earth. Nor is he now un~ 
Biindful of his brethren in the realms on high ; for, 
while he breathed terrestrial air, he promised his droo- 
ping friends, " I will pray the Father, and he shall 
send yon another Comforter, and he shall abide with 
you for ever." See him surrounded with prostrate se- 
raphim ! What joy and gladness in his countenance ! 
what heaven in his eyes ! Mark how the keys of hell 
and death depend upon his girdle ! " Fear not, my 
beloved people, because I live ye shall live also. I 
am he which liveth, and was dead ; and behold, I am 
alive for evermore ; and I have the keys of hell and 
death ;" to lock the prison doors upon these ugly 
monsters. O blessed Redeemer I if we, being ene- 
mies, were reconciled to God, our incensed Creator,. 
by thy death ; much more being reconciled, shall we^ 
be saved from falling away by thy life. 

Nor dest thou, almighty Spirit, less insure our fi- 
nal perseverance ; who dwellest in our souls, and raa- 
kest our bodies thy living temple; who abidest in us a 
well of living water, springing up into everlasting life. 
Thou art the abiding unction, the incorruptible seed of 
God, the joyful earnest of the heavenly inheritance. 
By thee are we sealed unto the day of redemption ; 
who ri&all dare to break up these litiag epistles, . 



93 

-rind deface the saci-etl characters of thy law, whicfe 
thou heist written in our hearts ? 



On assurance of present and future happiness, 

THE assured christian is a rare and happy per- 
son, whose conscience hears him witness in the Holy 
Ghost, that his faith is unfeigned ; his love sincere ; 
his fear filial ; his repentance evangelical. And be- 
ing pleasingly conscious of those prints of divine 
grace in his own heart, which are the fruits of past e- 
lection, and the buds of future glory, firmly concludes 
that he is in a state of favor with God, and an heir of 
the heavenly inheritance. He does not at all pre Lend 
unto extraordinary revelations ; but comparing the 
frame of his own soul with the characters of the chil- 
dren of God, he is persuaded, both from the outward 
declarations of the word, and the inward testimony of 
the Spirit, that he dwelt upon the heart of a loving 
God from everlasting ; and that every gracious pro- 
mise shall be his inheritance at the last. For, by the 
mouth of these two witnesses, the Spirit and the word;, 
he is established in the truth of this delightful persua? 
sion. Therefore he knows, that it is no enthusiastic 
dream, or diabolical suggestion : but a sober certainty 
of walking bliss. It is true indeed he may not on all 
occasions be able to maintain such an exalted frame as 
this. Through temptation, desertion, the prevalence 
of corruption, he may walk in darkness, and have no 
light. But while he trusts in the name of the Lord, 
and stays himself on his God, the clouds are scatter- 
ed, and his former assurance returns to him again 
with brighter evidence ; as clear shining after the rain, 
or blooming health after a fit of sickness. 

But, O the blissful serenity of his soul, whew 
drinking in the cheerful rays of the Almighty's coun- 
tenance. He is calm as the evening of the summer ; 
and peaceful as the shades of the night. The sua 



94 

puts on a better beam, and every creature rejoices a~ 
round him. He" eats his bread with joy, and drinks 
his wine with a merry heart. The lying vanities of 
the world are totally neglected. An empire, in his 
balance, weighs a grain. The darkest night of afflic- 
tion is illuminated by the sparklings of this white 
stone. For he is persuaded, that the afflictions of this 
present life, cannot disannul the everlasting love of 
God : as the law, which was four hundred years after, 
could not disannul the promise, before conhrmed of 
God in Christ — Sometimes he has devoured torments, 
and come with an appetite into the flames. When 
the w r ater-pots have been filled to the brim, the wa- 
ters of affliction have been turned into the wine of 
consolation. He has played upon the hole of the 
asp, and put his hand into the den of the cockatrice, 
O death, he says, where is thy sting ? There is none 
like him in all the earth, w r ho is made without fear.-^- 
He is the chief of the ways of God ; the noblest work 
of the Almighty. With what alacrity he runs the 
way of God's commandments ! How sin is imbittered 
to his soul ! How duties are sweetened ! Not all the 
terrors of Sinai ; the lightnings that flashed ; the thun- 
ders that roared ; when God came from Teman, and 
the holy One from mount Paran, could have such a 
powerful influence to molify the heart, as one drop of 
this dew that descendeth upon the mountains of Zion. 
How he twines about a precept ! How he longs for a 
duty ! How he catches an opportunity ! And fearful 
of offending, he works out his own salvation with fear 
and trembling. How can he live in sin, when he is 
dead unto it ? How can he walk in darkness when he 
has fellowship with God ? How can he hanker after 
the husks of the swine, when feeding on the childrens' 
bread ? or desire the onions and the garlic of Egypt, 
when eating the hidden manna, and gathering the 
clusters of Canaan ? 

Ye children of this world, w r hose little souls are 
captivated with low and perishable vanities ; what 
can you produce equal unto this glorious prerogative 



95 

We may apply what was said in another case by Gide- 
on ; " is not the gleaning of the grapes of Ephrairm 
better than the vintage of Abiezer ?" 



ON DEATH, 

O DEATH, how dismal thy appearance ! how 
grisly are thy features, to those whose thoughts can- 
not overlook this present transitory scene of things ? 
who have not learned to expatiate in the unknown re- 
gions of eternity, and know not where they shall fix 
their everlasting abode ! How dost thou rend the man 
in twain, bursting the silver cord which knit the soul & 
body into one ! From what dost thou snatch us away ? 
To what regions dost thou convey us ? Through 
what dark paths wilt thou conduct us from this world 
to the next ? — These all conspire to heighten thy 
terror, and make thy gloom more dreadful. 

Thou riflest the treasures of the anxious miser, 
and sulliest all the honors of the proud. At thy com- 
mand the drunkard makes haste to finish his debauch, 
and the delicious epicure becomes the sweet repast of 
worms and reptiles. How wilt thou quench each bur- 
ning lust in thy cold icy arm$, O king of terrors ! — 
The man of letters forgets his favorite books, which 

now in vain adorn the shelves covered with dust. 

The sceptred hand now drops the reins of govern- 
ment. The stately rooms of the palace no more be- 
hold their honored lord. Thou changest our counte- 
nance, and sendest us away. No more shall we be- 
hold our joyous home ; our pleasing and affectionate 
relations ; nor the cheerful face of the day ; nor the 
delightful variations of the seasons. By thee, for 
ought we know, the stars are blown out as to us, 
the sun and moon are extinguished in their habi- 
tation. 

And whither, O whither wilt thou carry us, when 
we renounce our correspondence with the sun ?- 



98 

When our dull body drops into the grave, and rots a- 
way unseen, where wilt thou send our trembling 
souls ? What sights shall we see ? What sounds shall 
we hear ? With whom can we converse ? Alas ! it is a 
state of which we are ignorant ; a world of spirits and 
disembodied beings, with whom we have no familiari- 
ty here. 

Eow dark is the transition \ how dreary is the 
path that leads us through thy deep and shady vale, 
O death 1 To whom have thy gates been opened ?- — 
Who knows thy secret chambers ? No mortal e'er re- 
turned to tell us what thou art. 

Yet must we tread the dismal road : nor are our 
steps to be recalled when fairly entered on it. No 
man hath power to retain the breath of his nostrils ; 
neither hath he power in the day of wrath. How uni- 
Tersal is thy dominion ! how cruel is thy appetite, 
which never says it is enough ! Long hast thou spread 
desolation through the universe : not among beasts 
and plants alone, but also among man's imperial race, 
ki every period of time. Void of compassion for the 
smiling infant ; the blooming youth ; the venerable 
tfage ; thou blendest them in undistinguished ruin.- — 
Thou regardest not the forces of strength ; the charms 
of beauty ; nor golden bribes of riches. Thou pourest 
contempt upon princes, in whom we cannot therefore 
safely trust ; and upon all the sons of men, in whom 
there is no stay, because they are born to die. 

" What man is he that liveth, and shall not see 
death ?" We need not search for thee in the plains 
of battle ; in the rocks and billows of the ocean ; nor 

on the loaded table of luxury and intemperance. 

Numberless accidents, and ghastly bands of pale dis- 
eases, surround us in terrible array. But accidents a- 
part, and pale diseases set aside, old age soon cuts the 
thread of life and hastens thy approach. Threescore 
and ten, or fourscore revolving winters, may perhaps 
be numbered by us. Alas ! how soon is this period 
exhausted ! How exceeding diminutive it shews in 
reason's eye ! and in the eye of him who is just now 



97 

to render up the ghost ! As the shuttle sweeps oyfcr 
the loom in the twinkling of an eje ; as the post, who 
carrying some message of importance, dispatched a* 
way, gains upon the road, and takes no time to view 
the adjacent country; as the ship which has the wind 
in her wings, skims over the watery plain; and as the 
fleet eaglQ, who spies out his prey from on high, de- 
scends with headlong precipitation ; so tiles our mo- 
mentary duration. 

Yet boast not of thy victories over the human 
race, thou unrelenting tyrant ! There are who can he- 
boid thee with a smite, and laugh at the shaking of 
thy spear. Jesus the loving Savior, received into his 
soul the fatal sting, and wrought out all thy deadly 
venom. In vain you thought to hold him under thy 
gloomy dominion : for, " though he was dead, yet he 
is alive again, and liveth evermore." He entered thy 
dreary gates, and tasted of thy bitter cup for every e- 
lect man. Why should we fear to taste thee, or tread 
thy dreary vale, when the Breaker is gone up before 
us ; who leads the blind in a way they know not, and 
Til paths they have not known. 

Repine at death? Why should the mournful pri- 
soner take in bad part the kindly office that unties his 
fetters, and overturns the walls of his dungeon ? Why 
should the child repine to burst the narrow confine- 
jnent of the womb, and salute the rejoicing light of 
day ! Ought not the weary pilgrim to bless the day 
which returns him to his fathers house ? and the es- 
poused bride to rejoice in the hour when she is present- 
ed to her faithful bridegroom without spot, or wrinkle, 
or any such thing ? 

Though thy pains, O death, were as terrible as a 
timorous imagination paints them, (which yet they can- 
not be, when the sensation is gone ;) yet should we 
soon forget our miseries, by reason of those transport- 
ing scenes which shall straightway unfold unto our 
view. 

How soundly shall our dust sleep in the peaceful 
£?ave, thy dark and solitary mansion I whef e we shaft 

x 



98 

not lie pained with the gnawing of the worm ; nor of- 
fended by the nauseous stench ; nor wearied wiih dis- 
mal solitude ; nor frighted with the surrounding dark- 
cess. These are the terrors of the living, not the 
dead. 

It is true, the pleasant enjoyments of time are 
crurs no more. But neither are the sins nor the sor- 
rows. We bid farewell to the streams ; but we bathe 
in the fountain of felicity. We shall no more behold 
the ways of men, nor see the glory of the Lord in the 
land of the living : yet shall we come to God, the 
judge of all ; to Jesus the mediator of the new cove- 
nant ; and to the innumerable company of angels, and 
spirits of just men made perfect. 

Whither canst thou carry us, O death, from the 
presence of that God, whose loving-kindness is better 
than life ? When, with thy trident, -thou shalt break 
the pitcher of this mortal frame; the deathless soul 
is not like water spilt upon the ground ; for the pitch- 
er being broken at the fountain, it runs to its original, 
and can be gathered up again. 

Kail, happy day, that destroyest the last enemy, 
in which the sleeping bones shall hear the call, and 
reunite into a system ! How shall the reproach of 
the grave be wiped away, when, that which was sown 
in dishonor and shameful putrefaction, shall be raised 
in glory ? Then, O death, we shall no more be sub- 
ject to thy power; when we shall call eternal life and 
immortality our own. " Rejoice not against me, O 
mine enemy ; for though I fall by thy hand, I shall a- 
rise again ; and when I sit in darkness in the grave, 
«ven then the Lord will be a light unto me." 



ON THE RESURRECTION. 



SHALL death always triumph over ihe human 
race, and hold these prisoners of the tomb in everlas- 
ting chains ? "Wiil the Lord forever despise the work 



99 

of his hands ? nor ever repair ihese heaven-labored 
frames of flesh ? Shall these holy hands, that are de- 
voutly lilted up to heaven ; those knees, that often 
were bended in humble supplication before the throne; 
^hose tongues, that talked of his wonderful works, and 
uttered his praises ; and all the other instruments of 
righteousness, forever lie in rubbish ? Shall the ex- 
pectation of the poor always fail ? Have the martyrs 
bled in vain, who were tortured, not accepting delive- 
rance ? Faithful is he who hath promised, who also 
will do it. It is the work of death to part the body 
from the soul ; and then the grave eats up our flesh, 
and even gnaws our bones. Yet shall your works be 
destroyed, ye frightful monsters ; bone shall come to 
his bone, dust to his dust ; and every parted soul re- 
enter its ancient habitation. 

If it is marvellous in your eyes, should it be mar- 
vellous in his eyes, whose understanding is infinite, 
whose power is not to be conceived ? Lift up your 
eyes on high, who hath created ail these God-like lu- 
minaries, and marshals all their host ? Behold, he 
formed the eye, and bored the ear, and fashioned all 
your members. By whom is his arm shortened, that" 
he is not able to restore his workmanship when gone 
to dissolution ? We understand not the powers of 
angels ; we are struck with admiration at the curious 
arts, and witty inventions of puny mortals ; and won* 
der how it is possible for them to give being to such 
elaborate productions. The art of the painter is de- 
servedly amazing to those who are not formed by na- 
ture with such mysterious skill. How is the poor In- 
dian amazed at the moving machines of watches and 
clocks, which are easily formed by European artists ! 
With what inimitable art the skilful musician swells 
his notes, and sweeps the vocal strings ! Are the 
ways of men above our shallow reach; and shall the 
ways of God be fully understood, seeing they are 
higher than our ways, as the heavens are higher thaa ' 
the earth ? 



100 

When the mystery of God shall he finished, and 
the pi^gnant decree shall have travailed with her last 
birth-, the Lord himself shall descend from heaven 
with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and 
with the trump of God. Behold, consider, and ad- 
mire ; the man of sorrows, who was crucifiecl, dead, 
and buried, is the God w r ho quickens the dead. Even 
those are made alive by him, who embrued their hands 
in his blood, who pierced his hands and his feet.— 
*' To this end he both died, rose, and revived, 
that he might be the Lord of the quick and the dead. 5 ' 

O ^shrill-voiced trump of God, (whatever thou art,) 
How shalt thou wound the rest of many generations ! 
The king shall hear thee beneath the vaulted marble, 
and shall come forth without his crown; and the pea- 
sant, who slefeps beneath the grassy turf, shall arise 
at thy command. Ocean shall hear and tremble in 
his deepest caverns ; and render up his dead, which 
long did float upon its surface, and weltered in the 
winds, and at last were devoured by the finny inhabi- 
tants of the floods. 

Populous assembly ! not one missing of past, 
present, and future generations. Neither can they 
die any more. For, O thou last enemy ! destructions 
are come to a perpetual end. Though you have razed 
eities, and their memorial is perished with them, now, 
in your tarn, you shall be swallowed up in victory. — 
How glad would the ungodly be to find thee, when 
pulled out like sheep for the slaughter ! they shall lift 
up, in that awful hour, a cry after thee, far more dole- 
ful than what was heard in Egypt, in the night fatal 
to their first-born. Gladly would they search for thee 
in the bottom of the ocean ; or penetrate into the cen- 
tre, through the- interposing rocks, to find thee. But 
thou shalt flee from them, and leave them to eat the 
fruit of their ways. 

Think on this dismal tragedy, ye dead in tres- 
passes and sins. Yet are ye prisoners of hope. — 
Christ is the resurrection and the life. Believe on 
him ; and though ye be dead, theg shall you Iive,-~ 



101 

Repent and be converted every one of you, that you: 
sins may be blotted out, and not found, when they 
shall be sought for, when the times of refreshing shall 
come from the presence of the Lord. 

Times of refreshing indeed to all the followers of 
the Lamb ! Then shall his going forth be prepared as 
the morning, after a melancholy night of blackness, 
and darkness, and tempest ; or, as the beauteous 
spring, v, hen she comes after a surly winter, to strow 
the earth with flowers, and clothe the naked trees in 
green attire. " Awake, and sing," shall he say, " ye 
that dwell in dust ; for thy dew is as the dew of herbs, 
and the earth shall cast forth her dead, and shall no 
more cover her slain." 

Then shall those who, perhaps, expired in mutual 
wounds, join hand in hand, and mutually partake in 
the redeemers purchase. There Mephibosheths are 
not lame ; nor Leahs tender-eyed ; nor shall Timothy 
be any more subject to his often infirmities. For He 
shall change our vile body, and make it like that glo- 
rious one which he himself doth wear. Farewell to 
pining sickness. Adieu ye ghastly band of pale 
diseases, distempers lingering and acute, hunger, 
thirst, and weariness. No more, O balmy sleep! 
shall we need thy welcome refreshment, when that 
which is sown in dishonor, shall be raised in glory. 

Great is your gain, ye saints, when ye exchange 
time for eternity t Nor is it only gain to your undy- 
ing souls, but even to your putrefying clay ; which, 
with inconceivable improvement, shall be restored 
you again. Nor is it a doubtful event. Ye dead inert 
of the Lord, together with his dead body shall you a- 
rise. For you he visited the gloomy mansion of the 
grave. Your redeemer has warmed your clay-cold 
bed, and left a most delightful odor in the noisome 
sepulchre. He who brought Israel out of Egypt, and 
Jonah out of the belly of the fish, and Daniel from 
the den of lions, will surely bring you from the grave 5? 
for the temples of the Holy Ghost will not always lie 
ivk rubbish; nor the members of the body of Christ for 

ijt 



ever be forgotten in the pit of corruption. The Lord 
Jesus • Jhrist he is the head, the living head ; and ye 
are the members of *'As body, of his ilesh, and of his 
bones. He is the first-fruits, and ye are the full har- 
vest. He is the first-begotten from the dead, and ye, 
as the younger brethren, shall be begotten in your 
season. And with your clay, your characters shall 
rise, and your righteousness shall go forth as the light. 
For, by the resurrection from the dead, ye shall, ilk* 
Christ, be declared the sons of God with power. 



ON THE RESURRECTION AND JUDGMENT* 

THERE is a time, (who knows how near?) when, 
according to the tenor of the sacred oracles, the mysr 
*ery of God shall be finished, the Lord himself shall 
descend with a shout ; the dead shall be raised ; the 
living shall be changed ' r the world shall be judged.— 
Whatever great or dreadful has been achieved under 
the sun, falls infinitely short of the transactions of this 
awful day. Mercifully has our gracious God sup- 
pressed this day and hour in darkness, that we may 
never intermit our watch. O did we make this wise 
improvement of it ! 

Methinks the awful period is arrived. The clrou- 
ay world is lost in security : little dreaming of an ex- 
tinguished sun, or falling stars. Some will be buying 
mid selling in the market ; some will be debauching 
in the tavern ; some will be planting trees ; some will 
be building houses; some will be marrying, and giving 
in marriage ; when, Lo ! the dreadful sound of a trum- 
pet, blown by a strong lunged angti, (perhaps the 
same that was once heard on Sinai, waxing louder 
and louder,) shali wound the ear of nature, proclaim- 
ing the approach of the judge, that an eml, an end is 
come, and the fashion of this world passeth away. 

Beheld, he cmneih with clouds ! innumerable angels 
?.&e&d his approach, and pour aroUad his chariot f 1)13 



103 

radiant face eclipses the lustre of the sun; beneath 
him a great throne, white as the snow, and fiery as 
the flame. — Is this he who was born in Bethlehem, 
find groaned on Calvary ? whom ye insulted, O mali- 
cious Jews, bending your knees before him in solemn 
mockery ? Say now, mistaken Caiaphus, whether 
did he or thou blaspheme ? 

Long had the prisoners of the grave slept in dark- 
ness; but now they awake out of their iron sleep, they 
shake off the slumber of a thousand ages. Now mo- 
numents render back their dust, church yards and bu- 
rial grounds pant and heave. Even palaces will then 
be found to have been but upper chambers to a tomb* 
And the ocean itself will seem to have been paved 
with human skulls. — Strange to behold ! the frag- 
ments of bodies will fly through the air, to obey the 
signal of the trumpet, and join their fellow members, 
however distant. Ask not, ye profane, how can it 
be ? For, who hath shortened his arm ? He who 
knit your bodies together at the first, can reunite your 
scattered dust, though the four winds were warring for 
it. Three days did the prophet Jonah suffer a living 
death in the belly of a fish ; but when the third morn- 
ing gilded the mountains, and played upon the bil- 
lows, the obedient monster returned his sacred guest 
untouched upon the safe shore. So, at the appointed 
season, the grave, at the command of God, shall cast 
forth her dead, and the earth shall no more cover her 
slain. 

Meantime, the living shall undergo a change e- 
quivalent unto death, and this mortal shall put on im- 
mortality. This is a great mystery. Here let us 
leave it under a veil, and proceed to take a view of 
that most populous assembly, where Adam shall sa- 
lute his youngest son. The billows are not so nume- 
rous that break upon the shore, nor the stars that glit- 
ter in Kie firmament. The edict of the almighty King 
shall sweep an area for this vast congregation. Here 
all civil distinctions are buried. The mighty Csesar 
stands- upon a level with the meanest of the throng.—* 



104 

No -respect is paid toliim that wore imperial purple. 
Here the great heroes of antiquity shall stand un- 
marked and unadored. 

See there on the left hand of the judge, that dire- 
ful croud, pale with horror and amazement ! how their 
eyeballs roll in wild affright ! what despair is in eve- 
ry gesture t — Most gladly would they bless the grave 
to cover them ; the flames to wrap them ; the rocks 
to hide them ; or the seas to sweep them from the pre- 
sence of him that sits upon the throne. 

But mark on the right hand that triumphant as- 
sembly, who face the thunders with dauntless magna- 
nimity ! when the stars are falling, their thoughts are 
fixed : when the earth is quaking, their hearts are un- 
i appalled, They view with calm serenity, the yawn- 
ing gulf, the glorious judge ; and hail the happy morn- 
ing of the resurrection. Are these the forms that 
mouldered in the dust ! What rosy youth smiles in 
their countenances ! Once did they lie among the 
pots of sin and misery ; but now they are made as a 
dove, whose wings are' covered with silver, and her 
feathers with yellow gold. Not one sinner shall stand 
in this vast congregation of the righteous* 



ON THE MISERY OF THE DAMNED. 

CANST thou descend, my soul ! with awful 
step into the doleful regions of damnation ? — Let thy 
heart meditate terror. The more shall thy fears be 
alarmed to fly from the wrath to come in this thy dqj* 
of merciful visitation : the more shall thy gratitude be 
awakened to thy loving Savior, who redeems- thy life 
from destruction, and who says unto thee, Fear not, I 
have the keys of hell and of death. But have the doors 
of the shadow of death been opened unto us 3t Wha 
can presume to give the geography of this dismal ter- 
ritory, or confidently say in what place of this large 
universe eternal justice b&a ordained this tfolefidLjfrtfK 



105 

geon ? Whether it shall be in the centre of the earth, 
or in some blazing comet, or far beyond the limits of 
this lightsome world, where chaos and eternal dark- 
ness reign — HE only knows, before whom hell and 
destruction hath no covering. No thoughts can reach, 
no words can paint the horrors of this dreary region, 
where the miserable inhabitants drink of the w rath of 
the Almighty, and know by dreadful experience what 
is the power of his anger. Waving the metaphorical 
descriptions of darkness, worms, and fire ; there dwells 
the most restless and unsatisfied desire ; the most o- 
verwhelmirig shame ;* the most horrible fear ; the most 
dismal sorrow ; the most tormenting (my ; the most 
unreleifting hardness of heart ; and the most racking 
despair. 

They hunger, but there is no food to relieve their 
appetite ; they thirst, but there is no refreshing foun- 
tain, nor even a cooling drop. Should sensual appe- 
tites remain, they never can be gratified. As heathen 
poets sung of Tantalus, burning with thirst and hun- 
ger ; gladly would he snatch at the delicious apples 
hanging over his head, or steal a cooling draught of 
water that came up to his chin : but no sooner did he 
make the fruitless attempt, than the apples fled from 
his grasp, and the waters from his taste. So shall 
they " snatch on the right hand, and be hungry ; 
and they shall eat on the left, and shall not be sa- 
tisfied ; they shall eat every man the flesh of his own 
arm." 

How will the impropriety of their past conduct 
expose them to the bitter taunts of insulting devils, 
and to the painful upbraidings of their own hearts ! — 
Fools that w r e w r ere, for one morsel of meat to sell our 
heavenly birthright ! for such transitory delights ; for 
such little sips of polluted joys, to awaken these ever- 
lasting flames ? 

What fear fulness and trembling shall come upon 
them, when they behold the angry face of God clad 
with an everlasting frown ! Who can behold it, and 
not be sore aaiazed t Evea the Son of God did sweat 



106 

great drops of blood when he beheld it. How then 
shall these feeble creatures endure ! 

Lo ! heaven shuts its everlasting doors upon 
them, while their minds are haunted with the ghastly 
apparitions of their departed joys. How keen raust 
be the sorrow ! how cutting the anguish of such a 
thought ! I have eternally lost the incomparable hap- 
piness of yonder blessed abodes. Where are ye now 
my pleasing comforts ! How have you fled away as 
a vision of the night. 

Nor will it be a small part of their misery, to en- 
vy the prosperity of the righteous, when they shall 
seize their heavenly thrones, and tune their harps to 
strains of highest rapture. When " their horn shall 
be exalted with honor, the wicked shall see it, and 
be grieved : he shall gnash with his teeth, and melt 
away." 

O shocking to think ! they will eternally hate 
the eternal Excellency, because they are hated of 
him. — No more shall the divine Spirit excite the 
faintest motion in their minds towards God, or holiness. 
The iron sinew of their stubborn will, will grow more 
hard by these fierce flames. They may indeed repent, 
but their repentance worketh death. 

Here hope supports under the greatest pressures; 
but there that anchor shall be broken. Here the sons 
of sorrow will sometimes sink in soft repose ; the 
couch will easlr- their complaint ; and kind offi- 
cious friends will fall on various methods to blunt the 
edge of the sharpest pain. Even the tortured wretch, 
though dying hard and slow* may comfort himself with 
this, that his torments will shortly come to an end. — 
But these can hope for no respite, nor period of their 
woes. 

Flow would it stamp a bow in their cloud, to think 
there were an end ! but in vain, should they shed an 
ocean of tears, and stretch out their suppliant hands. 
Death will flee from them, consigning them to flat, des- 
pair. Have pity upon them, O ye their friends. Will 
no auectioaate relation shed a compassionate toar 



107 

Alas ! the father will not pity his children, and the 
mother will have no compassion on the son oi her 
womb, for they sing hallelujah, when the smoke of 
their torment ascendeth for ever and ever. 

Surely such are the dwellings of the wicked : and 

is the place of him thai knoweth not God. O my 

sdfcil ! envy not their momentary happiness, come not 

into their secret y be not united unto their assembly. 

How much better is it for thee to strive to enter in at 
the strait gale, with these happy few that find it, than 
to go with the multitude in the broad way that iead- 
"eth unto destruction ? Canst thou fly too fast from 
hell and damnation ? Canst thou be too careful to a- 
void those paths, which, though strewed with roses, . 
lead down to the chambers of death? Whether is it 
better thy flesh should murmur, or thy soul should pe- 
rish ? O that knowing these terrors of the Lord, our 
whole life might be one constant flight from the wrath 
that is to come 3 How miserable are they who will 
not be persuaded oi' the reality of everlasting torments, 
by ftil the threatenings of the word, when it is declar- 
ed by the faithful and true witness, " if they will 
not believe Moses and the prophets, neither w r ill 
they be persuaded though one should arise from the 
dead." 



ON THE HAPPINESS OF HEAVEN. 

GLORIOUS things are spoken of thee, city of 
God ! and of those happy beings who walk thy gol- 
den streets, and dwell in thy ivory palaces. — They 
are ail of them kings and priests unto God. 

Hail, ye highly favored of the Lord, ye nations 
of them that are saved J Now have ye received pow- 
er over the nations of numerous corruptions, and rule 
them with a rod of iron. — A crown not of flowers, 
which fade, not of gold, which is also a corruptible 
thing ; but of glory, or righteousness, of life, shall 
Sourish on your heads. The throne of Christ himself 



108 

receives you. Eternal shall be your triumph, ye 

happy victors, who have more than conquered. ~ 

Therefore are ye arrayed in white robes, with palms 
in your hamls, and songs of salvation in your mouths* 

The Lord is your inheritance, ye roj^al priest- 
hood. By Jesus Christ your altar, shall you offer up 
the sacrifices of praise continually. You shall go no 
more out from the heavenly temple, as did the legal 
priests below ; for he shall make you as the pillars of 
Jachin and Boaz in the temple of your God. — In what 
flowery paths, by what living waters, shall the Lamb 
in the midst of the throne conduct you, ye flock of his 
pasture, for whom your good Shepherd did give his 
very life ! Under what verdant shades shall you re- 
pose, where ^he sun shall not light on you, nor any 
heat ! O happy rest from sin and sorrow into which 
ye have entered, ye people of God ! No more shall 
ye weary yourselves in the greatness of your way. — 
Your understanding shall rest in the contemplation of 
truth ; your wills in the fruition of good. Every wish 
is crowned, every desire is gratified by God himself, 
your exceeding great reward. Plentiful feast to which 
ye are invited, where ye feed upon the hidden man- 
na, and taste that the Lord is good. No more shali 
pale famine approach your blessed abodes, who are 
called to the marriage-supper of the Lamb. O blissful 
vision to which you are admitted \ No more ye see 
through a glass darkly. Not the back parts only, but 
the face and similitude of the Lord shall you behold. — 
All ye beholding, with open face, this glory of the 
Lord, shall be satisfied and sanctified at once. With 
joy, and in righteousness, shall you see his face. — ■— 
But, O thou exceeding great and eternal weight of 
glory ! Eye hath not seen thee, ear hath not heard 
thee, heart hath not conceived. What tongue, what 
pen of angels can describe thee ? Therefore by such 
variety of metaphors art thou shadowed out in the 
book of God. 

O heavenly Father ! give me the light of the 
knowledge -of thy glory. Irradiate my mind, di- 



I0& 

vine Spirit ! that in ihy light I may know what is Ilk 
riches of the glory of his inheritance in the saints. 

As delicious meat unto the taste ; as fragrant per- 
fume unto the smell ; as melodious accents to the ear; 
a s .delightful colors to the eye : so is the knowledge of 
wisdom unto the souk But, ivherc shall wisdom he 
found? and where is the place of -under standing ? In 
vain you search for it in these dull regions. Here, 
with laborious assiduity, we dig for her as for hid trea- 
sures. When found, by many a painful effort, how 
far from satisfactory ? Neither do we find that know- 
ledge is productive of holiness in heart and life. How 
many, like that prodigious image which Daniel be- 
held in the visions of the night, have added feet of sor* 
did clay to heads of purest gold ? But in that happy 
country, the night of intellectual darkness no more at- 
tends her dusky shade. The tree of knowledge is the 
tree of life in the celestial paradise. Then each my?, 
ierious doctrine in religion shines brighter than the 
light, and full day pours on al? the paths of heaven. — 
Tiow are the channels of the deep waters difteoreretL 
through which the Almighty held his darksome way ? 

Sin too is banished from those bright abodes : for 
the people that dwell there shall be all righteous. No 
?nore shall the body of sin, and power of indwelling 
corruption, fetch the deep groan from the bottom of 
the heart. That root of bitterness which hereabouts 
was left, with bands of iron and brass, is quite extir- 
pated* No more shall Jacob and Esau struggle in the 
womb of the sanctified ones ; nor the law in the mem- 
bers war against the law of the mind. It is true the 
militant graces shall resign, when every enemy lies 
prostrate on the held. Victorious faith and hope novr 
enter into rest. But charity never faiSeth. Charity, 
which is the fulfilling of the law, shall burn in purest 
flames for ever and ever. Happy, thrice happy they 
who have attained this holy perfection. Your harps 
shall be always tuned, and your garments always white. 
Now are ye eased of your greatest burden, and rescu- 
ed from the hands of vour deadliest foe. No more 



110 

shall wandering tliouglita annoy your heart nor idle, 
words How from your tongue. While we, alas ! must 
sore complain of vanity, pcrverseness, and disorder in 
rnind, will, and affection. 

Neither shall there he any more pain ; fof bor- 
row shall -be turned into joy. O ye that rejoice iri God 
above all, and in Christ Jesus, with joy unspeakable, 
though now you see him not ; how shall you be com- 
forted, when you shall behold his face in righteous- 
ness, wearing sweet smiles ! Will it not he good for 
you to he with him who died for you ? With' him 
where he is, that you may behold his glory ? Then 
shall you see those hands and itet that were pierced ; 
that side which was wounded ; that head which wore 
the thorny crown. Is this the man who groaned and 
died on Calvary for me ? who descended into the 
grave for me ? Yes ; this is the man, the God-man, 
Jesus, the same to-day, j^esterday, and for ever. No 
Sight of years shall dissolve the mysterious union of 
bis humanity with the divine person of the eternal 
Bon. 

All their springs of consolation are derived from 
this fountain of living waters ; yet are there other 
considerations in which they shall rejoice, though 
with inferior delight. Then shall they come to you, 
ye innumerable company of angels ; nor he startled at 
familiar interviews with you, though disembodied 
creatures, as they were in their mortal state. Here 
you were the spectators of their conflicts, and the 
guardians of their virtue ; then shall ye be ilie asso- 
ciates of their bliss. 

O comfortable society ! * Then, too, shall we come 
to the general assembly and church of the first-born. 
Those who lived in distant periods of the world shall 
meet in one congregation. The inhabitants of dis- 
tant regions shall be there; those who dwelt in Bri- 
tain and Judea. O large communion ! which no dis- 
tance of time, no length oi sea and land can confine : 
no ariimosty shall corrupt, world without end. There 
our grand parents eat the tree of life, no flaming sword 



Ill 

forbidding all access. The patriarchs shall wander no 
more as pilgrims and sfcangers, having found the coun- 
try they desired. There shall we see the venerable 
saint, whose faith enabled him to obey, without reluc- 
tance, the most difficult precept that ever was given ; 
and him whose invincible patience triumphed over 
the greatest load of calamities. There shall we see 
the prophets who foretold, and the apostles who pub- 
lished the power and coming of his. Majesty ; and aH 
the goodly company, who loved not their Jives .unto 
the death, but rendered their lives, by cruel tortures, 
for the love of the truth. How frequently is that com- 
plaint of the prophet to be taken up in these regions of 
sorrow, " wo is me ! for I am as when they have gathered 
the summer. fruits, and there is no cluster to eat ; the 
good man is perished out of the land !" But no sin- 
ner shall be there, no deceitful hypocrite in all the 
fair association. 

Nor will they be insensible ofjoy from the glories 
of that delightful place where they shall dwell. O the 
novelty, the beauty, the grandeur of the heaven of 
heavens, the house not made with hands, the city 
that hath foundations infinitely surpassing the temple 
of Solomon, and the city of David ! Beautiful was 
the earthly paradise, and beautiful the earthly Canaan; 
yea, beautiful is this habitable earth, where many of 
the enemies of God reside. What then must be the 
heavenly paradise, the heavenly Canaan, which God 
hath prepared for them that jove him I 

And, O with what fair bodies shall they be clo- 
thed, who have put on immortality ! " The inhabi- 
tant of that land shall not say, I am sick;" but his 
countenance shall smile with rosy celestial youth for 
evermore. 

Th£*hell they have avoided will accent their 
gongs of salvation; and the world they have escaped 
will serve as a foil to the bliss. Thus it enhanced 
the miraculous deliverances of the Israelites, to see 
from the safe shore the wretched Egyptians tumbling 
in the ocean; and as the waste aij$ howling wilder- 



112 

^ess gave additional charms to the land that flowed 
with milk and honey. 

Nor will you be inactive through long eternity.—* 
You rest not day nor night ; yet shall you be stran- 
gers to weariness and fatigue. To praise him shall be 
your element ; to teach the arches of your lofty pal- 
aces to resound with the name of him you loved 
will be your delightful employment, while ages roll 
away. 

.For, O eternity ! eternity ! it is thine to crown 
the joys above. Thou art the knot which bindest the 
bundle of life together. Without* the thought of thee, 
dim sadness would not spare the faces of the bles- 
sed, their songs would be marred with dreadful dis- 
cordance, and all the blissful bowers would losetheif 
charms. 



On the manifestation of the Son of God in human jicsh* 

THE seventy weeks of Daniel were now elapsed; 
and they who looked for salvation in Israel, were 
wrapt in silent expectation of the Messiah coming in 
the name of the Lord to save them. Long had the 
Gentile nations walked in their own ways, and the 
Jews practised the ceremonies of Moses. But neither 
could the precepts of the philosopher retrieve the ruins 
of our fall, nor could the carnal ordinances of the law 
make them perfect, who had recourse unto them, as 
touching the conscience. For as yet the daily obla- 
tion had not ceased ; nor the temple smoked in ruin, 
Into which the messenger of the covenant, according 
to tlie ancient prediction, was ♦suddenly to come. — \ 
The sceptre of David was now sunk into tolfle hatchet 
of a carpenter, and his tabernacle was fallen down. — 
Tiberius swayed the sceptre of Rome ; Herod was 
king in Judea; John the baptist had been six months 
in the womb, who was to be the harbinger of his co- 
ttiinjjj and a profound peace reigned over the world. 



113 

as a presage of his birth, whose name Is called, the 
Prince cj Peace. When the almighty King, who is e- 
ver mindful of his covenant, dispatches from the bles- 
sed abodes, lo the angel Gabriel, (none of the least of 
the heavenly throng, and not how first employed in 
embassies of love to man,) to salute the blessed virgin, 
the mother of our Lord. The obedient angel flies r 
and punctually discharges his commission. But, O 
ye papists, though he honors her as a saint, he wor- 
ships her not as a goddess. A new thing indeed it 
was in the earth, that a virgin should conceive ; but 
by no means impossible unto the Koly Ghost to bring 
about by his over-shadowing power. If once a woman 
waSfcformed out of the substance of a man, why should 
not that same divine power be fully able to produce a 
man out of the substance of a woman ? May we not 
humbly judge that it came from Him who is wonder- 
ful in counsel, and excellent in working, that for the 
general honor of our nature, the Savior did spring 
from that feeble sex which was first in the transgres- 
sion ? For, " as the woman is of the man, even so 
also the man is by the woman ; but all things are of 
God." O condescending Savior, blessed, beyond all 
perad venture, was the womb that bare thee, and those 
paps that gave thee suck; nor is it easy to conceive 
how a sinful woman could be more highly honored,, 
than to carry thee in her womb, unless by having 
thee formed in her heart. 

Here let us forego all idle speculations, about 
what other methods are possible to God, by which to 
send forth his Son into our lower world ; and lei us* 
rather be willing to discern the characters of wisdom 
that are evidently instamped upon this dispensation, 
such as it is. For had a body been prepared him of 
nothing, of the dust of the ground, or of some heavenly 
materials; he would Hot have been of the same flesh and 
bind with those he intended to redeem. Or had it 
been produced hi the ordinary method of human gene- 
ration, he would have been involved in the same guilt 
©f Adara's originating sin with the rest of mankind, 

k 2 



114 

whom he represented in the first broken covenant.-—- 
As in the former case his relation to us would (for 
what appears) have been too remote ; so in the latter, he 
would (in all appearance) have been too like us; not only 
in qualities of our nature, but in the guilt of our per- 
sons. But now he is born of a woman, and therefore 
of our bone, and of our flesh. And because his mo- 
ther is a virgin, we easily understand how he is holy, 
imdefiled, and separated from sinners. — But here a 
diffifeiffty arises to our thoughts ; for, if she is a virgin 
that shall be with child by the Holy Ghost, who shall 
preserve her character from the unjust aspersions of 
the world ? It is far more fitting, that her holy child 
Jesus shall confirm the truth of his divine extraction, 
by the tenor of his deportment, when adult, than that 
she shall be the assertor of it. Therefore she is betroth- 
ed unto a husband, who is at once the witness and the 
guardian of her virginity. 

But leaving the- sacred embryo to be curiously 
wrought in the lower parts of the earth by the fingers 
of the Almighty, let us next see in what manner the 
heaven]^ infant was ushered .into the light, " for thou 
Bethlehem Ephratah, though little among the thou- 
sands of Judah," according to the prophets, " shalt 
give birth to the Ruler of Israel." But though the 
felessed virgin can trace her genealogy from David, 
and from Abraham, she is a resident of Nazareth, from 
whence no prophet was expected to arise. How thea 
•shall the prediction be accomplished? The emperor 
of Home issues a royal edict, that all his large domi- 
nion shall be taxed. He meant to fill his coffers with 
money; but a greater sovereign than he intended the 
•£tiifil!ii}g of his promises. While every man repairs 
io his city to be taxed, in obedience to the imperial 
mandate, Joseph his father, as was supposed, repairs 
among the rest to Bethlehem, the city of his family, 
tefeing of the house and lineage of David. And now 
he is arrived with Mary, his espoused wife ; who be- 
ing near the time of her delivery, had been directed 
by providence; or special instinct, to accompany her 



115 

husbatid on this occasion. No costly palace reeelf esr 
our wearied travellers. A common inn is the place 
of his nativity. Perhaps a silent intimation, that he 
himself should be a common Savior. Nor even in 
the inn could a commodious apartment be spared to 
the Lord of heaven and earth. Ye men of Bethle- 
hem, what a guest did you exclude ! The coarse ac- 
commodation of the manger was all his mother could 
obtain for her tender infant. Lo ! there HE lies wrapt 
in swaddling clothes, whom the heaven of heavens 
cannot contain. He is associated with the herds in 
the stall, whom all angels adore ! For this is he ; be- 
lieve it, ye children of men, whose name is Immanuel, 
which by interpretation is, God with us ! This is he, 
who from all everlasting was the brightness of his Fa- 
ther's glory, the express image of his person, who re- 
joiced always before him, and was daily his delight. 
This is he, who was in the form of God, and thought 
it no robbery to be equal with God ; but for our salva- 
tion he is clothed in flesh and blood, and now be- 
comes a helpless feeble infant ! — O ye beautiful scenes 
of the creation, thou glorious sun ; thou silver moon ; 
and all ye glittering stars, in you the invisible things 
of God are clearly seen ; but now you are eclipsed by 
the more excellent glory, God manifested in the fleshc 
Come hither, ye that thirst for curious knowledge, ami 
lose yourselves in thankful admiration. For the per- 
son of the eternal Word, by whom all things were 
made, is found in the likeness of man, is become as 
our brother that sucked the breasts of our mother.— 
Not that he stripped himself of any divine perfection, 
or ceased to be what he was ; but by a most ineffable 
.act of condescension and power, he has veiled the 
glory of his divinity, and become what he was not, by 
assuming a portion of our humanity to subsist in his 1 
own personality. O mysterious infant, the glory of 
our race, who art not ashamed to call us brethren .'— 
now r , thou art fully able to give our ransom unto God, 
and the redemption of our souls, though precious, 
shall not ceasa for ever. 



116 

What charming melody is that breaking 4he si- 
lence of the nighty and tasting strong of heaven ? It 
is a multitude of the heavenly host praising God in 
strains of highest rapture. O shepherds! blessed were 
your ears, to hear such early tidings of a Savior born 
in the city of David. Though your heads were wet 
with dew, and your locks with the drops of the night ; 
jet none of. the princes of this world could boast of 
such an honor. But, lo ! three eastern sages, con- 
ducted by a wonderous star, or gliUering meteor, come 
from a far country, to seek and worship the princely 
babe of Bethlehem. They are not scandalized at the 
inglorious figure the infant king did cast ; but percei- 
ving the rays of Deity, even through the veil of flesh, 
(such is the power of faith,) they not only offer unt© 
him costly presents, but address him with divine ho- 
nors. A sad presage, ye children of the kingdom, 
that " many shall come from the east, and from the 
v/est, and from the south, and from the north, and 
shall sit down with Abraham, with Isaac, and with 
Jacob, in the kingdom of God, when you yourselves 
shall be cast out." In vain does the besotted tyrant 
of Judea think to reverse the high decrees of heaven* 
by issuing out a bloody mandate to murder the tender 
innocents. While their infant blood defiles the streets- 
of Bethlehem, Egypt herself shall be a sanctuary to 
the young Prince of Peace. — Be comforted, ye mo- 
thers, whose lovely babes have perished in so good a 
cause, and received such an early crown. In a little 
time the cruel murderer shall feel the weight of so 
many just curses upon his guilty head; and the fi&es- 
sias shall reign in spite of his infuriate and feeble 
rage. 

We cannot reasonably doubt, but the young Re- 
deemer gave early proofs of bis divine original. It 
was no doubt, a very \uc- mng employment to the 
highly favored parents, to rear up this tender plant by 
a thousand endearing offices ; to mark the first bud- 
dings of his genius more ihan mortal ; and to observe 
the blossoms of every heavenly grace that adcrne'i hi* 



117 

holy* -soul? But as it hath seemed good to the* wis- 
dom of the Holy Ghost, to be very sparing in the his- 
tory of his private life, after he had called his son out 
of Egypt, we must be content to remain in ignorance 
of what is not revealed. Yet, as a specimen of the 
rest, one remarkable occurrence is transmitted down 
to our knowledge, concerning the holy child Jesus. 
He had numbered but twelve revolving years, when, 
accompanying his religious parents to the solemn fes- 
tival of the passover, young as he was, he could main- 
tain a dispute even with the doctors in the temple. — 
His parents, not suspecting where he was, seek him 
with sorrowful hearts, and the third day restores him to 
their longing eyes. Wist ye not that he had the busi- 
ness of his heavenly Father to look after, and that he 
needs not your parental care ! For, though his pa- 
rents should both forsake him, the Lord will take him 
up. — Ye learned doctors, little thought you, that the 
amazing child, who talked with you to the great ad- 
miration of every beholder, was he, of whom the prG- 
phet says, " to us a child is born, to us a son is given; 
and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, 
and the mighty God.*' 

For the space of thirty years he lurked in obscu- 
rity in the contemptible village of Nazareth. Who 
would have suspected that the*gpn of the carpenter 
was himself the everlasting Father; and the Creator 
of all the ends of the earth ? But now the time is 
come when he shews himself unto Israel. What ve- 
nerable person is he, who, like the ancient Ellas,, 
wears a hairy garment ; and in the villages of the wil- 
derness, preaches the doctrine cf repentance ; talks of 
the kingdom of heaven being at hand ; of the axe to 
the root ; the fan to the wheat; and the chan to the 
fire ? It is the forerunner of Christ, " the voice of 
one crying in the wilderness, prepare ye the way of 
the Lord." See how the multitudes ilock after him, 
to his baptism ! even Christ himself condescends to 
be baptised of him. The hoary Baptist wonders that 
the Master should come to the servant ; who was not 



118 

worthy to perform the meanest office to such an exal* 
ted Dignitary. But thus it became him to fulfil all 
rigkteouness. — Once he was circumcised ; to sanctify 
the church that then was ; to honor the divine ordi- 
nances ; and to testify that he was a debtor to do the 
whole law. And now he is baptised ; to sanctify the 
church that is to be ; and to confirm his faith by this 
expressive sign, in the promise of his everlasting Fa- 
ther. For, though he needed not the washing of re- 
generation, (as we ;) yet, when he descended into the 
baptismal waters, it signified the large effusion of the 
Spirit upon his sacred humanity, to qualify him fully 
for his high and saving work. And may we not also 
think, that when he ascended from this consecrated 
stream, into which he went down with willing steps, 
he was then assured, that in like manner he should 
lift up his head above the w r aters of adversity, and e- 
merge victorious from under the billows of his Father's 
wrath ? O Jordan, it was a strange thing that befel 
thee, when thy waters drove back their course at the 
presence of God, and when Elijah smote them with 
his mantle ; but much more* strange is this, that he 
who poured them out into thy bed, and made the dry 
land, and the fountains of waters, is now washed in 
thy hallowed wave $ while from on high the heavens 
are opened ; a voice is heard from the excellent glory ; 
and the Holy Ghost, in the likeness of a dove, de- 
scends upon him. 

Now, let us follow the illustrious Redeemer from 
the banks of Jordan unto the solitary wilderness, 
where Moses the giver, and Elias the restorer of the 
law, fasted forty days ; and where the ancient Israel- 
ites provoked him forty years. There, too, the great 
fulfil Ier of the law, during the space of forty days, ab- 
stains from food, being supported by a divine power, 
and fed with holy contemplation. But afterwards he 
feels the gnawing power of hunger ; to expiate the 
luxury of Adam in the garden of paradise, and to de- 
monstrate the truth of his humanity. When, lo ! the 
subtle enemy is permitted to assault his virtue by 



119 

stfndry ensnaring artifices. But all his efforts are- 
baffled by this Captain of our salvation. — Think it not 
fit ra age, O humble soul, if this malicious spirit shall 
tempt, with restless importunity, even to the most a- 
trocious crimes ; and shall abuse even the sacred ora- 
cles to this vile purpose. He came unto the glorious 
head, in all points tempted like as we are. But being 
resisted by the sword of the Spirit, which is the word 
of God, he betakes himself to shameful flight. 

Let us now proceed to trace the most interesting 
steps of our Redeemer's life, when he dwelt among us 
in our n"esh. And shall we first listen unto him as a 
teacher come from Qod ? With what inimitable au- 
thority ! wii.h what irresistible wisdom, impartial 
freedom, undaunted boldness, unwearied diligence, 
burning zeal ! with what homely plainness, conde- 
scending humility, tender compassion, amiable meek- 
ness, long-suffering patience, divine delight, did he 
preach righteousness in the great congregation ! How 
eloquent ! How pathetic ! How mighty in the scrip- 
lures ! — But who can enumerate all the wonderful 
works which, by his own power, and for the manifes- 
tation of his own glory, he effected ? The raging ele- 
ment of water he stills with a powerful word, and 
walks upon its rolling surges. Trees withered at his 
rebuke ; fishes have paid him tribute. How often did 
he give sight to the blind; hearing to the deaf; speech 
to the dumb ; strength to the weak ; health to the 
diseased ; purity to the defied ? Even strong death 
could not retain his prisoners, when he gave the high 
command. Never were words so gracious as those 
he spake. Never were works so glorious as those he 
did. 

Perhaps it might be enquired, in what palaces he 
dwelt ? what riches he possessed ? what princes was 
he acquainted with ? But though he calls the silver 
and the gold his own, if he pays tribute, a nsh sup- 
plies him with money; if he rides, he must borrow an 
ass. He built the sky, and had not where to lay his 
head. He prepares the corn, and. was fed at the table 



120 

®t others. poverty 1 how dost thou expose to con 
tempt even the greatest wisdom, and most solid vir- 
tue, in this degenerate world ! But though he was 
rich, for our sakes he became poor ; and by his pover- 
ty, we shall be enriched. 

The faithless and perverse generation among 
whom he conversed, not content with rejecting his 
heavenly doctrines, blaspheming his miracles, and 
staining his moral character with the most odious im* 
putations, arrived at that enormous pitch of wicked- 
ness, as on many occasions to thirst for his blood.- — - 
Sometimes they take up stones to cast at him, as an 
abominable wrelch unworthy to breathe the vital 
air ; and sometimes they lead him to the brow of an 
hill, with an impious intention to cast him down ; tho' 
in the village where he was born ; and though a while 
before, they wondered at the gracious words that pro- 
ceeded out of his mouth. 

Nor was the conclusion of the scene unlike its 
beginning. Even to the last we find him a man of 
sorrows. Is it nothing to you, O ye children of men ? 
Much every way. For, by his bloody sweat you are 
purged ; by his condemnation you are absolved ; by 
Ms bonds you are loosed ; by his death you are quick- 
ened ; and by his stripes you are healed. Nor must 
we regard the last dismal sufferings of the Redeemer; 
in the light of an affecting tragedy, but of an evangeli- 
cal history. 

Already he had made his triumphant, though 
lowly entrance into Jerusalem, riding upon an ass l~ 
amid the acclamations of the populace, in accomplish* 
ment of an ancient prediction. His eye had melted 
in tender compassion over the bloody city. He had 
eat the last passover, and instituted the new solemni- 
ty of the supper. Many excellent discourses he had 
made to his sorrowful disciples ; and, by the signifi- 
cant ceremony of washing their feet, he strongly in- 
culcated, how by love we should serve one another in 
all humility. — But as once we saw him in the wilder- 
nesSj let us now attend him into that garden of Getli- 



121 

sromane, the scene of his dreadful agony ; where hfc 
irode the wine-press alone ; or, rather was trodden in 
the wine-press of his Father's wrath; where he was in 
all the. mysteries of woe ; where he beheld the angry 
face of God ; and felt the sting of death, long sharpen* 
ed (if we may use the expression) upon the stony ta- 
bles of the law, infixed into his very soul. See how 
he lies all prostrate on the ground, and pressed out of 
measure ! with an invisible load, till large red drops 
of blood issue from every opened pore ! What words 
were these, Q Savior, that dropped from thy lips in 
this sore and bloody conflict, when, in the most fer- 
vent manner, thou didst deprecate the bitter cup ?— * 
Was it the prospect of thy cruel death ? Was it the 
terror of thy crucifixion, that made thee stand aghast, 
and to shrink back with shuddering horror ? O no.— *■ 
Thy martyrs have rejoiced even in the sternest tribu- 
lations, have bid defiance to all the variety of torture, 
and resolutely met the king of terrors in his most for- 
midable armor. For they beheld the face of God clad 
with sweet smiles, while their afflictions did abound* 
But thine it was to know the power of God's anger ; 
according to his fear, so is his wrath. It was the 
burden of our guilt ; and ic was the lively sense of the 
Almighty's indignation, that filled thee with such a* 
mazing anguish ; and extorted from thy human na- 
ture, confession of distress, in tears and groans, and 
prayers to him that was able to save thee from death. 
' But he survives the bloody sweat, being strength- 
ened by an angel, and supported by his own divinity ; 
when, lo ! the perfidious traitor comes and dares ap- 
proach to salute with a treacherous kiss, those lips 
that knew no guile. For the wretched gain of thirty 
pieces of silver, the price of a slave, when pushed by 
an ox that he died, (a goodly price that he was prized 
at by them !) did this miserable sinner betray his 
Lord and master. O cursed lust of gold * to what e- 
normous crimes canst thou urge on the human mind ! 
— But who are these he brings along with him ? Ro- 
mans and Jews sent from the high priests. " Why do 



122 

the heathen rage, ami the people imagine a vain thing, 
to plot against the Lord, and his anointed VI Against 
whom do they come thus equiped with swords and 
staves ? — But what is this ? — They go backward, and 
fall to the ground ! — Understand, ye wicked, that he 
is able to slay you with the breath of his mouth, and 
cast you down beyond the possibility of arising. But 
his hour is now come. — Take him — and lead him a- 
way. — Let the disciples retire at the permission of their 
Lord. — And thou, Peter, put up thy sword — leave 
Tengeance unto God. 

The breath of our nostrils, the anointed of the 
Lord is taken in their pits. He is bound like a male- 
factor, who proclaims liberty to the captives. Easily 
could he act the Sampson upon this occasion. But the 
justice of his Father forbids it; and the cords of his 

own love, stronger than all fetters, hold him fast. 

Where do they lead him but to the high priest, as a 
lamb to the slaughter ? 

In vain does the conscience of Pilate remonstrate 
the innocency of the Pannel. In vain does the wife 
of Pilate dissuade from sanguinary methods, and tell 
about her ominous dream the preceding night. The 
silly judge, intimidated by the threats, and dunned by 
the clamor of the mob, delivers Jesus unto their will, 
and releases unto them the murderer whom they pre- 
fered. — What barbarous indignities were done unto 
him bof«i before and after he received his sentence, 
may justly raise our wonder, while they excite our de- 
testation. Lo ! he is exceedingly filled with con- 
tempt, being forced to wear the ludicrous ensigns of 
majesty. His crown is a wreath of thorns. His scep- 
tre, a reed. The judge of Israel is smitten with a rod 
reproachfully. He hides not his face from shame and 
spitting. They rest not here; for his back is prepa- 
red for the tearing scourge. In these circumstances 
of disgrace, he is denied by his only apostle who had 
the courage to follow him. O Peter, hear you not. 
the witnesses accusing him falsely ? Is this your 
kindness to your friend ? Where now is your confi- 



123 

dent boasting ? But so it was foretold by Christ,; 
and for this let us pass the time of our sojourning here 
in fear. 

Ah ! how have we made him to 'serve with our 
iniquities ! For panting, and spent with toil, and co- 
vered with blood and sweat, he bears his cross, " his 
visage is marred more than any man's, and his form 
more than the sons of men." And now he is arrived 
at the appointed place for consummating the melan- 
choly scene. His garments are parted. The assem- 
bly of the wicked enclose him round. They pierce 
his hands and feet. Sec how lie hangs suspended 
on the racking cross, betwixt the heavens and the 
earth ! 

No fountain relieves his parching thirst ! No 
angel strengthens him from heaven ! No Peter draws 
a sword in his quarrel ! His inexpressible torments 
are not able to command one tear from the unpi tying 
spectators, who shake the head at him in cruel scorn, 
wrest his words, and mock his prayers ! — -Even the 
sun withdraws his light ! O golden ruler of the day, 
didst thou fly the pain of thy Maker ? Or, was it in- 
censed justice, that arrested thy beams from giving 
light unto the smfiering Surety ? But, more horrid 
was the darkness of his soul, when thou, O heavenly 
Father, withheld the pleasing beams of thy counte- 
nance. Persecuted, biit not forsaken, may be the motto 
of the suffering saint, but not of the suffering Savior. — 
Even in tfcisi hour and power of darkness, he casts not 
his confidence away ; but, having commended his 
mother to a beloved apostle, and his spirit unto his 
beloved Father, he bows the head, and renders up the 
ghost. — The earth quakes. The dead arise. The 
temple rends her vail. Then :vere ye spoiled, O 
principalities and powers. Then justice was satisfied ; 
the law was magnified. The mighty works which 
had employed the thoughts of God from all everlas- 
ting, and which shall be the subject of the most de- 
lightful contemplation to all the redeemed company, 
world without end ? did then receive its consummation* 



124 

that this dying love of God might dwell for & 
y.ev in our thoughts \. constrain us to every duty, and 
deter us from every sin ! Must the Son of God 
expiate, with such direful sufferings, sin, not his own? 
What then must they endure for their own, sins, who 
refuse to learn, from this amazing example, the infi- 
nite evil of that abominable thing ? 

Great was thy victory, O death, when even the 
Son of God slept in the chambers of the tomb, a pri- 
soner of darkness ; a pale and ghastly corpse. But 
wo unto us, if the gospel history had left him in the 
.silent grave. Then had the expectation of the 
poor perished ; then had his promise failed for ever; 
then had we been still in our sins, unpurged, unpaid 
cloned. 

But the third day beheld him emerging from the* 
tlarksome grave. In vain they set a watch, and seal 
the stone. It is not possible he can beheld. The 
wounds of his body are miraculously healed; the se* 
parated spirit is reunited by a divine power, before he 
saw corruption ; and he arises as a man refreshed 
with sleep, springs from his bed, when the morning 
chines with purple radiance. No more shall infirmity 
clog, thy flesh ; or sorrow cioud thy brow, O risen Sa- 
vior. No more shall death reduce thee under his 
gloomy power. Thy warfare is now accomplished, 
and th©u hast received of the Lord's hand double for 
all our sins. 

O earth, why didst thou quake ? and what distur- 
bed your repose, ye sleeping bones ? It was at the 
presence of the God of Jacob, who lately was cruci- 
fied in weakness;, but now he is raised in power. ■ 

The earth casts forth her dead. Sleep on, ye remai- 
ning prisoners of the dust; a time, a time will come, 
when ye too shall awake and sing, and ascend to meet 
him in the air. Ye living saints rejoice that death is 
swallowed up in victory. The grave, that hungry 
monster, catching the bait of his humanity, was not 
aware of the hook of his divinity, and swallowed its 
own destruction. Now, may we rest in full assurance* 



125 

lliat all our debt is paid, when, by the order of tlic 
Creditor, the Surety is taken from prison and frofci 
judgment. For, lo ! a shining minister, whose coun- 
tenance is as lightning, and his raiment white as snow, 
descends to roll away the stone from the holy sepul- 
chre ! For fear of him the keepers did shake, and he 
came as dead men. No doubt he was fully able to 
have removed the stone, who had power to lay down 
his life, and had power to take it up again. For e 
yen the pillars of heaven tremble, and are astonished 
at his reproof. But it was the will of the eternal Fa- 
ther, that these excellent and glorious creatures round 
his throne, should put this token of respect upon their 
Lord and ours, even in his lowest humiliation. Hail 
happy day, on which a more glorious work was finish- 
ed, than when he planted the heavens, and laid the 
foundations of the earth ! May that sweet day of sa- 
cred rest be the joy of our souls! Then may we often 
join with God and angels, in remembering this most 
illustrious work, a finished redemption. 

The victory is complete ; what remains but the 
Victor shall triumph ? The atoning sacrifice is offei*- 
ed ; what remains but that the high priest shall enter 
within the vail ? Forty days he converses with his 
disciples, instructing them, in the nature of his king- 
dom, by his heavenly discourses ; and confirming 
them in the certainty of his resurrection, by his fre- 
quent appearances. Then does he lead them out as 
far as Bethany, and the mount of Olives. By that 
way he once came to his ignominious cross, and by 
that way he returns to his glorious crown. And how 
did he employ the last parting moments, but in bless- 
ing his beloved apostles ; and assuring them of his 
being ever present with them in the discharge of their 
office, even when they should see him again no more ? 

Could we have stood among that favored lev/, 
who witnessed this glorious transaction, then would 
we have seen him slowly ascending from the earth; 
not snatched as Elijah in a whirlwind ; till an obedi- 
ent cloud receives him from the sight of the astonished 

u2 



126 

gazers, who had already seen enough to satisfy their 
faith. " Ee lilted up ye everlasting doors of paradise* 
that the king of glory may come in." Listen to the 
triumphant shout wherewith the blessed assembly hail- 
ed his arrival. Observe the trophies of his victory; 
the blunted sting of death, and the keys of hell and 
the grave. Great was the pomp thou Sinai didst be- 
hold, when the holy One descended on thy top, and 
out of his right hand went a fiery law r ; but greater 
doubtless was the pomp, when he ascended on high,, 
leading captivity captive, after he had magnified the- 
law, and made it honorable. 

Now, reign for ever, blessed Lord Jesus, upon 
thy heavenly throne. For ever shall a crown of glo- 
ry encircle thy radiant head. No more shalt thou 

complain of a sorrowful soul, or a forsaking God. 

With what infinite satisfaction shalt thou, for ever re- 
volve thy past agonies, and see the travail of thy 
soul ! Obedient angels cast their crowns before thee t 
With thee shall the church militant swell their sons£ 
even in this vale of tears. And unto thee shall the 
triumphant church ascribe eternal praise, saying, with 
a loud voice, " worthy is the Lamb that was slain, to 
receive power and riches, and wisdom, and strength* 
and honor, and glory, and blessing." To join the 
songs on high, may we also in thy due time be brought t 
Amen. 



ON CHRIST LAID IN THE GRATE. 

IS this the place ? Is this the gloom ? How dis- 
mal the situation ! how ghastly the appearance ! See 
there his face defiled with deadly paleness t his eyes 
closed in death ! His body, covered with hideous 
wounds, and scars of ignominy, lies stifif and motion- 
less, wrapped in ev mournful shroud ! O how unlike the 
place, the state from whence thou didst descend ! And 
was it then for this thou left the skks ? Is tfcia that- 



glorious person by whom the worlds were made ? who 
hung the starry globes on high ? gave rays unto the 
sun, and brightness to the moon ? He thunders with 
the voice of his excellency; frighting the nations with 
the tremendous roar. Lo ! silence broods around him, 
deep as the night, or summer's noon-tide air. Ah t 
where is thy glory fled ? Where are those bright mi- 
nisters who have in charge to be thy constant atten- 
dants, in all thy ways to keep thee ? those who pro** 
claimed thy birth; hymned thy arrival on this earth, 
and who, with kindly services, refreshed thy wearied 
virtue, in the day of thy temptation in the wilderness ? 
Why have you abandoned your Lord in such disgrace ? 
Why do you not brighten this dismal place with your 
celestial splendor, that it may look somewhat like the 
tomb of such a person? But, what are ye ? Such a 
mysterious event the sun could not behold, had not 
the sovereign Mind, who rules on high, consented. — * 
But why, O heavenly Father, wouldst thou forsake 
the darling of thy bosom, who always did the things 
which pleased thee ? as was by thee declared, when* 
from the opening cloud, thou sent the heavenly Dove, 
Who rested on his head when he ascended from the 
baptismal waters. The hoary baptist marvelled ; and 
every beholder was lost in admiration. A voice soun- 
ded from the excellent glory ; a voice which was af- 
terwards repeated : " this is my beloved Son, in whom 
I am well pleased." 

Forbear, vain mortal, to tax the divine procedure. 
Tou see the Surety, who just now paid the debt of 
mankind. You behold the slaughtered victim, the sa- 
crifice of a sweet-smelling savour. Though here the 
earthly part of his humanity is humbled for a time ; 
yet shortly, very shortly, you may, with raptured eyes, 
behold him emerging from these darksome shades^ 
much like the vigorous sun. But know, that thine 
iniquity did bring him to the dust of death, and plunged 
him in these depths of ignominy. 

Ah ! cursed monster sin, what hast thou done ? 
I formerly heard thou cast the angels from their bright 



128 

abodes to coasts of dark destruction : and man was. 
driven by thee from paradise, and all its flowery plea- 
sures. By your means the race of men were buried in 
a watery grave. You called for fire and brimstone, to 
lay in ashes the proud towers and tents of wickedness 
and lust in Sodom's evil day. Thine is the pesti- 
lence : the bed of languishing is thine, and every sick- 
ness : you opened the pit of corruption, and furnished 
with deadly arrows, the inexhausted quiver of the king 
©f terrors. Were not these achievements sufficient to 
glut thy rage ? With these, audacious monster, thou 
might have been content. How dared you attack the 
Son of God, and kill the prince of life ? But know 
for this, thou thyself shalt die. Thyself shalt be con- 
demned. Lo ! in that grave I see thee laid, and gra- 
dually shalt thou consume away, till even the hard 
and solid bones shall be reduced to dust, without a 
vestige remaining. 

ON CHRIST RISING OUT OF THE GRAVE. 

I WILL not anxiously enquire, who shall roll me 
away the stone ; or waft me over the seas, to view the 
local spot where the dead Redeemer was laid a breath- 
less corpse. This I leave to you, sons of delusion ; 
who, destitute of true devotion, trudge many a need- 
less step. But let me find the holy sepulchre in Ihe 
field of meditation ; and on the feet of love, and with 
the eye of faith, let me approach and view the place 
where thou, O Lord, didst lie. 

When he beheld the grave of Lazarus, he wept. 
Shall I not drop a tear, when, Oh ! it was mine iniqui- 
ty that brought him to the dust of death, and closed 
his eyes in cruel slumbers ? But, wherefore weep ? — - 
Why not rejoice also ? death, where is thy priso- 
ner? He is not here, but he is risen ; for the third 
morn beheld him despise the grave. 

II rose, he rose ; he burst the bars of death „ 
And with him all our triumph o'er the tomb. 



129 

What an agreeable perfume is exhaled from this 
delightful place ! Here is no noisome grave ; for, no 
sepulchral stench offends the nostrils. The sacrifice 
of a sweet-smelling savour hath left a most inviting o- 
dor, which restoreth my soul again. 

But hath he left those garments, this linen pure 
and white; emblem of his unspotted righteousness; to 
me and ail his followers ? Like the divine Elijah, 
who left this mortal stage, nor felt the stroke of death ; 
(a privilege which, for our sakes, was not indulged to 
a far greater than he.) Lo ! there a napkin to wipe 
all tears from off all faces. Lo ! garments of salva- 
tion, and linen pure and white, are ready at your hand. 
Put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ. 

My languid spirits revive : I feel a lively vigor 
diffuse itself over all my powers. What wonder that 
such quickening influence proceeds from thy sepul- 
chre, Lord of life ; when even a prophet's sleeping 
*bones touched into life a stiffened corpse. So sacred 
"story tells. Here let me come and bring my lifeless 
lieart, when deadness seizes my soul ; here let me en- 
ter ; here let me dwell. 

My lusts b# buried here ; for ever lie entombed 
my fears. O death! where is thy sting? Where is 
thy victory, boasting grave ? I no more consider thee 
as a gloomy dungeoi. Now thou art a quiet sanctua- 
ry ; a downy bed; a lightsome mansion ; and a peace- 
ful haven in order to receive the weary wanderer, 
long lost upon this troublous ocean of anxious cares 
and tribulations. 



OX CHRIST COMPARED TO THE ST7N. 

SEE there the glorious ruler of the day ; who re- 
joices as a strong man to run a race ! How universal 
in his influence ! how rapid and how constant is his 
motion ! that heavenly lamp has blazed for multitudes 
gf ages in the blue vault of the firmament. Empires 



130 

have arisen and decayed ; populous cities hare been 
laid in ashes, without any trace now remaining of their 
ancient dignity and grandeur. All these revolutions 
have been beheld by this bright eye of the world, 
without any visible diminution, or material alteration. 
The selfsame sun now cheers us with his beams that 
arose upon former generations ; and will administer 
the same consolation unto others, when w T e shall be 
laid in the dust. Whether shall we most admire the 
beauty or the usefulness of this resplendant luminary ? 
Not a more beauteous creature did ever drop from the 
creating hands of the Almighty. To this bright orb 
we are indebted for cheerful light and genial warmth. 

Without his powerful aid, we should for ever 
mourn under the frown of hideous darkness ; and pine 
away under the piercing rage of winter. The rivers 
would be hardened into ice ; and the mountains co- 
vered with eternal snow. Who could live in his cold ? 
Were it not for his beneficial influence, our eyes would 
not be charmed with sight of vernal bloom, or sum- 
mer's rose : our nostrils would not be saluted with the 
sweets of the garden ; our taste would not be regaled 
with the fruits of the autumn, and gulden treasures of 
the harvest. It is this which makes the melancholy 
desert to rejoice ; the fields to smile ; the little hills to 
sing. When he rejoices in his edfet, how do the cheer- 
ful birds hail his arrival ! and even the clouds of me- 
lancholy are dispelled from the human mind. Fair in. 
himself, he beautifies all nature's works. Ke paints 
the flowers of the spring ; he clothes in sunny robes 
the rose and the lily ; he tips with gold the morning 
and the evening clouds ; and in the day of rain, the 
bright etherial bow derives from him that inimitable 
brightness which charms the eye of gazing multitudes. 

Fair looks the sun, and fair the morning-ray ; but 
not to be compared with the beauty of ihe Lord ; 
which above all things the sanctified soul is desirous 
of beholding. thou who wast dead, and art alive a- 
gain; who livest for ever ; thou brightest Sun of righ- 
teousness, that ekinccUt in the firmament of the church 



132 

from the most early ages ; that existedst before the 
day-spring knew his place ; and thou wilt be unto thy 
people for an everlasting light; who shall declare thy 
matchless beauty ; thy dazzling splendor ; thy univer- 
sal influence ! When Ave essay to lift our weak and 
sickly eyes to thee, we are not able to take a steady 
view of the incomprehensible glory of thy mysterious 
person ; for thou dwellest in the darkness of too much 
light. By thee is life and immortality brought to 
light ; and, were it not for thy directive ray, who 
should guide our feet in the way of peace ? We no 
more need to wander in uncertainty ; nor is the grave 
a frightful prospect unto dying mortals. In thy light, 
O let me walk ; and in thy light* work out my own 
salvation. O warm my cold affections, and melt my 
frozen heart with thy all-powerful beams. Enkindle 
such a flame as many waters cannot quench. — In vain, 
ye gospel-ministers, ye stars in the firmament of the 
church ; in vain ye shed jour feeble rays, when he, 
the Fountain of your day, refuses to arise. Ye twink- 
ling sparks of worldly comforts, you cannot drive away 
the night of melancholy from our dejected spirits ; but 
when he scatters his rays, and shews his face, O how 
the shadows fly away ! 

Then cheerfulness and joy return unto the soul, 
and the voice of melody is heard in the tabernacles of 
the righteous. "The flowers appear on the earth ; 
the time of the singing of birds is come." But when 
he hides away his face, ah ! what withering of the 
sou! ! Then, ye trees of righteousness, the planting of 
the Lord, that he may be glorified, resign your bloom- 
ing pride ; and your branches are not loaded, as usual, 
with the fruits of righteousness. 

When clouds and darkness are round about us, in 
the dark day of tribulation and affliction, what direful 
gloom would overspread cur souls, but that this kindly 
Sun of righteousness stamps on our blackest clouds a 
glorious brightness. It is the bo?r in the cloud, which 
makes our darkness smile, 



133 

Dreadful was that eclipse which thou didst labor 
tiader, O thou Light of the world, when offering up 
thyself through the eternal Spirit. JFrom the hiding 
of the Father's face, from the frown of his angry coun- 
tenance, wast thou shorn of thy rays. Arraigned be- 
before an earthly tribunal, condemned with injustice, 
Grounded with ignominious scourges, and piercing 
thorns, and crucified with unutterable agony, I see 
thee descending into the grave. The rocks, the flinty 
rocks, had compassion upon thy piteous sufferings ; 
nor could the sun conceal his indignation ; for in that 
hour and power of darkness, he laid aside his bride- 
groom attire, and clothed himself in sackcloth. Red 
and bloody was thy° setting, in the evening of thy mor- 
tal life; but glorious was thy rising in the morning of 
thy resurrection. 

For us, not for thyself, thou wast eclipsed in such 
bloody sufferings, that we might not for ever dwell in 
the dark regions of the shadow of death. Shine thou 
for ever blessed Jesus, in the firmament of the church, 
and iii the firmament of my soul. Who shall pluck 
thee from thy sphere, or arrest thee in thy progress ? 
Not all the powers of hell, nor the united force of in- 
ward lusts, and strong corruptions. Arise upon the 
darkened nations with healing in thy wings ; and 
chace away ignorance and delusion, by the brightness 
of thy coming. 

Blessed are those happy people on whom thou 
spreadest thy cheerful light; who triumph in thy 
beams, and solace themselves under thy genial warmth. 
But, ah ! how many times thy rays are intercepted by 
the moon of a present world interposing itself betwixt 
thee and us ! How frequently the cares ; how ire- 
frequently the comforts of this life lie too near my 
heart, and shew big in my eye, and hide thy cheer- 
ful face from my soul ! How often have the clouds 
of prevailing iniquity, and reiterated provocations, co- 
vered the face of my mind, and blotted out the day ! 
scalier thy victorious rays abroad, and chase them 
from thy sky ! Blot out as a cloud my transgressions ; 



233 

vnd as a thick cloud my sins, by the rays of thy jus? 
tifying righteousness and sanctifying influences. 

Bless the Lord, ye highly favored, who bask in 
his rays, and walk in the light of his countenance. — • 
" God is the Lord, which hath shewed us light : bind 
the sacrifice with cords unto the horns of the altar." — 
For, " through the tender mercies of God, the day- 
spring from on high hath visited us." Walk in the 
light while you have it; and remember the days of 
darkness ; you know not but they shall be many. 

O ye that slumber upon your beds ; and waste 
your golden season of grace in indolent repose ! a- 
wake ; arise ; go forth : and behold him coming forth 
of his chamber as a bridegroom. The darkness is 
past ; the shadows are fled ; the wild beasts have nrnw 
retired to their dens ; the birds of paradise rejoice £ 
and the voice cf gladness is heard in Immanuel's land. 
Now is the time lor the traveller to glory, to pursue 
his journey to the better country. Shortly the night 
cometh wherein no man can work or walk ; a night 
that will not know the dawning of the day. " Awake 
thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead ; and Christ 
shall give thee light." 



X)n Christ's comparing lumsdf to the rose of Sharon^ and 
the lily of the vallies, Song ii, 1. 

" LET another praise thee, and not thine own 
lips," is a maxim that includes not within its verge 
him who is Immanuel, and infinitely exalted above 
the rank of mortals. In him self-commendation is 
both graceful and useful. O fairer than the sons of 
men! so transcendant is thy excellency : so exalted is 
thy dignity; thy perfection is so boundless; thy beau- 
ty go matchless, so unparalelled, so elevated to the 
highest degree; that words cannot express, thou^hte 
cannot reach thy glory. Thou only knowest what fal- 
si 



134 

lie?* thou coniainest of grace and truth. No swelling 
pride, or over-valuation of thyself are lodged, or could 
lodge in thy sacred breast. Thou only canst with 
safety, with modesty, with decency, commend thy 
worthy Self. O may I catch the flame thy words 
would enkindle, and the opening of thy lips would in- 
spire in my soul ! 

Of all the flowers that imbibe the dew, and ex- 
. pand their leaves to the morning ray, the rose and the 
lily are the most goodly and delightful. These charm- 
ing sisters are signalized, both lor* their beauty and 
their fragrance. Well may the lovely Je§us be re- 
sembled to these blooming ornaments of the garden. 

View him in his person. The lily -of his divini- 
ty is wedded to the rose of his humanity. In \we- 
jpeuce of his divinity, the full blown lily, when bathed 
in the evening or morning de\\\ can boast no perfec- 
tion. For even the sun is ashamed, and the moon 
confounded, when he unveils his glorious brightness. 
In presence of his humanity, the sweet, and blushing 
rose loses her lustre. Beauteous was his soul, and 
beauteous his body. As to the former, it was adorn- 
ed with all the beauties of holiness ; and as to the 
latter, doubtless it shines with comely grace. Tho' 
in the days of deep humiliation, his face was furrow- 
ed with sadness, his visage marred more than any 
man's, and his form more than the sons of men, now 
joy brightens his countenance, and smiles forever in 
Ills eyes. 

View him in his mediation. ^Vs he is the repre- 
sentative of sinners unto God, he is the rose of Sha- 
ron in his bloody satisfaction ; the lily of the rallies, 
in his immaculate obedience. Wherefore art thou 
red in thine apparel ? What unworthy cause hath 
defiled with blood thy majestic looks, and stained all 
thy raiment, O thou rose of Sharon : } " I have trod- 
den the wine-press alone ; and of the people there 
was none with me." The sword of my Father's in- 
dignation bath awaked against me, the man who am 



135 

lis fellow. Therefore am I red in mine apparel, and 
my garments like one that treadeth out Vnt wine- 
press. Canst thou -spy any flaw, any the smallest 
deformity in the lily of the v&llies ? No more in the 
obedience of the Son of God. Though he, by divine 
imputation, was made sin for us, and even by human 
reputation, was an egregious transgressor, yet was lie, 
holy, harmless, and undeuled. Undeftled in his na- 
ture, by inherent corruption, and unclefiled in his life, 
by actual transgression. — Yiew him in his mediation, 
as he is the representative of God unto sinners, la 
the clemency of his government, he is- like the genii's 
lily ; in the severity of his administration, like the 
inflamed ' prickly rose. In the threatenings of hi* 
holy law, he is fiery as the rose : in the promise of 
the gospel, he wears the lily's winding aspect. If we 
are not attracted by his smites, we shall be appalled 
by his frown, when he amis his angry countenance 
with terror. 

How reviving, how exhilirating, the fragrance 
that is exhaled from this plant of renown, which re- 
storeth the soul again ! When we obtain a smell of 
this heaven-planted flower, the heart is glad, the 
tongue rejoices, the sun puts on a brighter beam, and 
every thing which we behold assumes a brighter 
aspect. 

No roses could equal those of Sharon ; no lilies 
like the lilies of the vallies. What grows in an irrig- 
nous soil, such as the low grounds usually prove, by 
reason of the numerous rills which descend from the 
neighboring mountains, must be of more exquisite 
kind, than the produce of the high and parched lands. 
— In all things blessed Jesus, thou must have the 
preeminence. If thou art a rose, thou art the rose of 
Sharon. If thou art a lily, thou art the WW of the 



SSG 



©ft Walking in- the Spirit* 

<THE walker in the Spirit, is a perscm whose 
goodness and devotion come not by fits and starts, 
and on some rare occasions ; but are habitually preva- 
lent in the tenor of his life. It is true, like the whole 
spiritual creation, he groans under the bondage of 
corruption ; yea, the more spiritual he is, the more 
carnal he sees himself to be ; like that most holy a- 
postle, whose mourning complaints are yet sounding 
in our ears : " The law is spiritual; and the com- 
mandment holy, just, and good : but I am carnal and 
sold under sin." But a spiritual frame is his element ; & 
with careful assiduity, he cherishes those good impres- 
sions that may be made upon his heart by the Holy 
Ghost ; of which he judges by their conformity to the 
divine law. To the guidance and impulse of that ho- 
ly invisible Agent, he endeavors to surrender himself 
in every action of his life. That he may not quench 
this holy fire, he crushes in the bud the rising thought 
of sin ; dashes against the stones the infant tempta- 
tions ; avoids the snares of evil company ; the practi- 
sing of known sin ; the indulging of unlawful plea- 
sures ; and anxious cankering cares about the things 
of the earth. He is ever studying to picture out in 
Jiis life some spiritual grace.-— Spiritual truths are the 
most savory of all others unto his taste ; for the 
blessed Comforter, according. io £he promise of Christ, 
takes the things of Christ ; shews them unto him ; and 
leads him into ail truth. These are the light of his 
eyes ; the joy of his heart ; more tasteful and deli- 
cious than honey from the comb. — Spiritual blessings 
lie esteems the most superlative and excellent. He 
judges not after the flesh, setting an high estimate on 
those things that make the fairest shew in the eyes of 
natural men, who cannot receive things of the Spirit 
of God ; but spiritual riches, honors, pleasures, spirit- 
ual blessings in Christ Jesus 5 these are the better 



137 

rigs tot which he pants, and wherein he greatly re- 
joices. — Spiritual thoughts are the native produce of his 
mind, arising from his heart as water from a living 
spring. As it is natural for a mother, to think of her 
sucking child ; for the merchant, to think of his mer- 
chandise ; for the scholar, to think of that particular 
science he is best acquainted with ; for them that are 
after the fiesh, to mind the things of the flesh : so it is 
natural for the spiritual walker, to mind the things of 
the Spirit ; when he buys and sells, when he plows 
and sows ; when he sits in the house, or travels on a 
journey; as well as when he prays in his closet, or 
repairs unto the place of the holy. In every object he 
is disposed to see God ; in every sound to hear him ; 
to taste him in all that is sweet; to admire him in ail 
that is great ; to love him in all that is lovely ; to re- 
verence him in all that is dreadful. He perceives, 
with David, the voice of God in the voice of a railing 
Shimei; and discerns, with Job, the hand of God in 
the hand of a plundering Chaldean. Every creature is 
unto him a Jacob's ladder, by which lie ascends into 
heaven. — Spiritual intentions reign in ail his enterpri- 
ses and actions, both civil and religious. Hence the 
most ordinary occurrences of life are sanctified, whe- 
ther he eats or drinks ; while the very sacrifices of the 
wicked are an abomination to the Lord. — Spiritual 
motives induce him to the hatred of sin, to the prac- 
tice of duty, to the pursuit of good. He abhors that 
which is evil, as well because it defiles, as because it 
destroys. Ue performs what is commanded, because 
it is commanded ; and not that he may be seen of men. 
lie asks temporal and spiritual blessings from above ; 
not that be may consume them on his lusts, but that 
God may be glorified in all. — Spiritual duties are hie? 
delight ful recreation ; he thinks not of them with re- 
luctance; bat anticipates, in a joyful expectation, the 
stated opportunities of intercourse with heaven. It is 
not his body that leads the mind, so much as the mint! 
that leads the body, to miy holy exercise. When he 
fells upon his knees in prayer to God, he goes net i- 

m2 






138 

Hie devil, or from the world, to God; hut from Goi to 
God; because lie is in the tear of the Lord all day 
long. 



OX A GODLY MAK^ 

THOUGH he esteems it idolatry to make imager 
of God • yet, he himself is a rpicture of God, walking 
np and down in the earth ; and he reckons it his great- 
est duty and honor to be so. The glory of God is the 
end of all his actions, civil and religious ; and a tax 
which he pays unto him with the same conscience^ 
that he renders unto Ose.sar the things that are Ose- 
sar's. The displeasure of all the world, when laid in 
the balance with the smallest frown of his Father in 
heaven, is lighter than a feather poised against a talent 
of gold. But if .he lift upon him the light of his coun- 
ter! •nee, it is as impossible for him to he miserable, as 

for one to shiver with cold, who in the 
warmest months of summer, should bask in the meridi- 
an sun. The sovereign authority of God stirs hint 
up to all his duties ; without which they would not be 
pro] :-;r:e, The same high will of G od recoil- 

i to every adverse dispensation; saying, with 
tj^e mpst honorable of ;: ; 'ers\ "theenp whick 

iven me, shall I not drink it ?" — By 

hs of created goodness, he is led unto God, 

as he fountain, from whence they arise. He sees 

God in every object ; he regards him as his awful 

witness ; so that he can never be alone, either in the 

field-, or secret chamber* Prayer is not his 

drud ent. He not only addresses the 

le of grace, when he has some petition to bulge 

e; or feme interest (o prosecute; but when he 

id, if it is not to tell God, how much he 
loves him; how with Mga; 

£mi to see his power and glory ia the sanctuary. 



139 

There is a mystery in the whole of his deport^ 
»ient, when acting like himself, which even the un- 
godly are forced to reverence. In vain shall (hey 
think to burst their bands, and cast away their cords ; 
for, in his hand is a sharp two edged sword. He binds 
even princes with cords, and nobles with fetters of i> 
ron. — He that sits in the chair of the scorner, shall be 
greatly confounded ; they shall be turned back thafc& 
gay, aha, aha. 

He greatly triumphs over the little insults of his 
adversaries. Reproaches shall rebound as burs from 
the polished surface of a looking-glass ; shall melt a& 
snowballs tossed against the sun ; and shall pass a- 
way as the morning cloud, or as the early dew, — • 
He would not exchange his joy in the Holy Ghost, 
for the raptures of the scholar, the triumphs of the sol- 
dier, and the gratifications of the most sensual epicure. 
How wide the field wherein he forages for joy, even 
in tribiMation ! 

Though withered is his vine, his harp unstrung, 
tie is the richest of all merchants; for, godliness, with 
contentment, is great gain. Lay not wait, wicked 
man, against his dwelling ; spoil not his resting place ; 
c; for know the Lord hath set apart him that is godly 
for himself; the Lord will hear him when he calls un- 
to him." Though he were laid in the lowest -its ; 
in the darkness and deeps of hell ; yet he could not be 
truly wretched, any more than a wicked man could 
be truly happy, were he admitted into the psre re> 
gions of life and immortality. 



BELIGHT IN GOP, 

IS a sweet frame of soul whereby the real chris- 
tian finds all his afflictions to be lightened, all his? 
comforts to be sweetened, all his sins to be embitter- 
ed, and all his duties easy and delightful. It is (he 
marrow of all bis sacrifices, whilst those that want it, 



140 

offer nothing unto God, save goodly words, which are 
only the outward part of the calves of the iips, re- 
sembling the hair and skin. It is the commandment, 
in keeping of which he finds its own reward. 

His mind is habitually filled with holy thoughts 
of God. whether he sits in the house, or walks in the 
field. He remembers him on his bed, and meditates 
-on him in the night watches, and rejoices under the 
shadow of his wings. In those solitary moments, 
when the vile person meditates villainy, and his heart 
will work iniquity ; when the sensual sinner makes 
provision for the flesh, to fulfil it in the lusts thereof; 
when the miser betakes himself to his gold, and the 
ambitious to their schemes of honor, he naturally re- 
tires unto his God, and converses with those thing? 
above, where Christ sitteth at his right hand. And 
these thoughts arise in his heart as naturally as the 
fruit-bearing tree piitteth forth her blossoms, or the 
fountain sendeth forth her waters. 

Religious duties are his element ; and he rejoices 
when it is said to him, " go up to the house of the 
Lord." Not that he may catch the applause of men ; 
not that he may only comply with his convictions, 
and stop the clamors of his conscience ; not that he 
msy, in some instance, gratify his curiosity, and teed 
a ticklish fancy, but that he may go to God as his 
exceeding joy ; and see his ■ power and glory in the 
sanctuary. Though the preacher of the word should 
charm his ear with the delicate cadency of his voice, 
and his e} r e with all the graces of motion ; if he hear 
not the oice of God, he is frustrated of his most valu- 
able end. ' Instead of being like him of Edom, detain- 
ed before the Lord ; or saying, with the unholy Israel- 
ites, wh^n will the sabbath be over? he binds his sacri- 
fice to the horns of the altar, with no other cords than 
those or love ; and counts the sabbath a deCgiu. As 
the spirit of the living creatures was in thy wheels, 
£ ekiel; so is his heart in duties. 

His worldly comforts he grasps noi wi-b too 
close au emui-ace* like those foolish animus, who hug 



141 

their young to death ; but mainly rejoicing in Gocl 7 
not putting them in his room, he finds them strong and 
lively. 

He cannot perish in his sorest affliction, because 
God's law is his delight. Though the fig-tree shall 
not blossom, and the fields shall yield no meat, he 

has a never (ailing refuge to betake himself unto. 

He rejoices in the Lord, and is glad in the God of his 
salvation. In the multitude of his thoughts withia 
him, thy comforts O Lord, delight his soul. 

But, O how sin is imbittered, when he tastes 
those ravishii%>f)leasures that are at God's right hand ! 
In what a contemptible light he regards the transient 
sips of joy, for which the children of sensuality forego 
their everlasting interests, when, like Adam, they sell 
a paradise for an apple ! For one morsel of meat 
Ihey renounce a birth-right, as Esau, ; or taste, with 
Jonathan, but a little honey, and for it they must die. 
His pleasures, not being of the sensual kind, fill not 
his cheeks With blushing; nor is heaviness the end of 
his mirth. He eats not only the food of angels, but 
the bread of God. The lines are fallen to him in plea- 
sant places, and he has a goodly heritage. The grea- 
ter an epicure, he is so much the more temperate. 

His pleasures neither darken his understanding, nor 
etupify his conscience, nor take away his heart. It is 
his alone to find honey without stings, and roses void 
of thorns. Take to yourselves, he says, your paradise 
of fools, and your impure delights ; serve your divert 
lusts and pleasures, all ye that are in the flesh ; but 
" I delight to do thy will, O God ; thy law is in the 
midst of my heart." Away with the weeping food of 
Egypt, the onions and the garlic. Welcome thou 
heavenly manna ! Hail ye everlasting joys, which do 
not resemble the crackling of thorns under a pot ; but 
that cheerful light of the sun that shinetb more and 
more until the perfect day ! It is yours alone, not t& 
be blasted by sickness, or nipoed by the winter of ad- 
versity ; and even in dexih you shall flourish like the 
palmtree, and pass into eternity, 



142 



REVfcREtfCE AND GODLY PEAR, 

IB that grace whereby the real christian main- 
tains, upon his heart, a constant lively sense of the in- 
finite distance betwixt the infinite Creator, and him- 
self, a finite creature ; and from a principle oflpve to 
the glorious Jehdvah, as the best and greatest of be- 
ings, he stands in awe to sin against him, by thinking* 
speaking, or doing, what are unworthy t^? perfections 
of his nature, and the relations he bears as his Creator 
and Redeemer. 

He is peculiarly cautious, not to intrude, with 
bold curiosity, into those sublime mysteries which he 
hath not seen, and which are only comprehensible to 
the divine understanding, not to censure those dispen- 
sations which are unaccountable to his reason, when he 
makes darkness his pavilion. 

If, in the sacred volumes of inspiration, mysteri- 
ous doctrines arc revealed, which far transcend his im- 
perfect views ; what he cannot comprehend he hum- 
bly acquires : and betakes himself to the sanctuary of 
Paul, O tlieheiglit ! For he rightly judges, that to be 
ignorant of what is revealed, is not more shameful and 
inglorious, than curiously to pry into what God hath 
wrapped in darkness. He considers religion as bear- 
ing a resemblance to the beautiful fabric of the temple, 
in which there were not only commodious chambers* 
and a great variety of necessary apartments ; but a- 
bove the safcred roof, high towers and lofty battle- 
ments, which, though ornamental to the building, and 
grateful to the view of the spectator, would yet be 
dangerous to c^i: i. He knows rhat it is an ad- 

versary who sets him on these pinnacles, where none 
can stand, but he who builds the temple of the Lord, 
and destroys the works of the devil. That lust of the 
mind which commonly goes under the name of curi= 

, he endeavors to subdue, as well as any otbei 
unruly appetite, 



143 

If, hi the course of providence, the Almighty'* 
path is in the sea, and his footsteps in the deep wa- 
ters ; he is persuaded, that he is able to justify his 
ways to men ; and fears to snatch cut of his hands the 
reins of government, or call before his tribunal the 
judge of ail the earth. If, therefore, he presumes to 
talk with him of his judgments, it is with the profound- 
est submission, and the most lowly reverence ; rather. 
confessing the darkness of his own mind than chal- 
lenging the divine procedure. 

The holy and tremendous name of- God he never 
takes up in his lips, but on some occasion worthy of 
it. He makes it not a needless expletive of his dig* 
Course ; nor speaks of it with an air of indifference ; 
but with a serious countenance, and humble heart, up- 
on ihe most solemn occasions. When he addresses 
likn in prayer, though he uses a holy aiial boldness, 
yet is he singularly careful, lest even this should de- 
generate into a vile commonness of spirit, and an un- 
holy familiarity, altogether unbecoming creatures^ 
whose designation is but dust and ashes. 

In the whole course and tenor of his life, the 
game holy principle makes him fearful of offending 
God, by doing what is forbidden in the law, or neg- 
lecting what is expressly commanded. In ordinances 
of divine worship, he keeps a steady eye to the sa- 
cred institutions of the word ; and fears to add inven- 
tions of his own, as though he could improve u s on the 

schemes of unerring and comprehensive wisdom. 

Presumptuous sinning, and presumptuous adding, are 
equally removed from him. 

In times of temptation, he preserves his integrity, 
because of the fear of God. In limes of danger, he is 

ident. When sinners in Zion, are afraid, and fear- 
fulness surprises the hypocrite, he fears indeed, but 
with that filial fear which is the daughter of faith, the 
sister of Love, the mother of obedience} and the begin* 
$ting of wisdom. 






<5N SELF DENIAL. 

THE christian who has learned to deny him- 
self, is Indeed abundantly conscious of the exalted 
dignity of his nature ; — which by his first creation, i» 
but a little lower than the angels ; — and by his se- 
cond, in Christ Jesus, is elevated much beyond them. 
For, of which of the angels was it ever said at any 
time, " we are the mem hers of his body, of his flesh, 
" and of his bones ?" And again, " of him are ye in 
" Christ Jesus. — Much he esteems that rational and 
immortal spirit within him, endowed with such noble 
powers. Much he reverences that curious fabric of 
flesh, builded for a temple of the Holy Ghost. More- 
over, while he entertains the highest opinion of his 
own excellency, he most effectually promotes his 
©wn interest. But there is a self which he does not 
es rem ; — a self which he docs not gratify, that is 
which he denies. 

Self-estimation is the first thing, to which his amia- 
ble character is opposed. He studies not to think of 
Mmself more highly than he ought ; whether by fancy- 
ing himself possessed of those endowments he really 
wants, or putting two high an estimate on those which 
he really has. As to the former, however much he 
prizes the noble faculty of reason ; however much he 
regards Hie duties of morality ; he trusts not to that as 
an infallible guide ; nor to these, as the ground of his 
acceptance. His intellectual powers, he sees, are now 
impaired, that he cannot discern spiritual truths 
aright. He renounces his own reason. His mor- 
al abilities, he knows, are now infeebled, that he can- 
not practise spiritual duties in a right manner. He re- 
nounces his own righteousness. Those actions, which 
some would denominate morally virtuous, be sees to be 
but filthy rags. And if performed by the unregener.de, 
like the dead ears of corn, which grow upon the house- 
tops, wherewith the mower cannot fill his hand; nor he 



145 

that binds sheaves his bosom. Neither- does he put 
too high estimate on these excellencies, real or sup- 
posed, which he is possessed of. Bis natural accom- 
plishments ; his civil distinctions ; his religious privi- 
leges and attainments ; all these he counts as loss and 
dung. Or, shall we say, he denies his natural, his ci- 
vil, and his religious sell? He thinks not too highly of 
Mm self. — For his natural accomplishments, as The el- 
egant proportion of his body, or the sprightliness of hid 
mind; all these, he knows, are the gilts of Heaven ; 
and but of small account, when compared with the 
more excellent qualities of pure and undented reli- 
gion.— Nor for his civil distinctions. These he knows 
are still more foreign (o him, being mere external ad- 
juncts, and cannot acicPone cubit to his stature. — a or 
for his religious attainments. He thinks it not expedi- 
ent for I * i in to glory, though he could come to visions 
and revelations of the Lord. Far*less can he value 
himself, with ihe vaunting Israelites, on his church- 
privileges, crying out, "the law, the law ; the temple; 
"of the Lord;* 5 and, "we have Abraham for our fa-' 
* fcher." 

Let us now see how he stands affected to self-grati- 
fication. Those darling lusts, which seemed as much 
a part of himself as his right hand, his right foot, or 
his right eye, he is taught to deny by the grace of 
God, which bringeth salvation. Be; is not only wil- 
ling to abridge himself of sinful pleasures, but upon oc- 
casion to forego his lawful comforts. To part with 
his worldly riches, for they are not his main treasure ; 
with his worldly reputation, for it is not his chief hon- 
or. Even the religious and holy desires of the new 
creature he may sometimes be called to moderate, 
Though his heart should sicken at the thought, yet must 
he consent to the defering of his hopes. If Christ 
says, touch me not, then must he be all submission. 
"Tarry here a while longer in your state of absence 
from the Lord :'" he acquiesces, though it were far 
ter to depart. Pure are hjs pleasures, exalted are his 
honors, high are his revenues; whilst, that he may 

N 



146 

f>Iease God, he pleaseth not himself. For, while he 
loses himself in God, he finds himself again to infinite 
advantage. 

Thy glotious pattern, O self-denying Savior, he 
principally regards, who, for our good and advantage, 
pleased not thyself; who subjected to thy heavenly 
Father thy human will, in drinking the bitter cup. A 
far mofe illustrious axample of self-denial than that of 
thy most eminent apostle, who pleased not himself, but 
all men in all things, not seeking his own profit, but the 
profit of many. What he only wished for, thou didst 
actually undergo, when thou wast accursed for thy 
brethrens sake, according to the Mesh. It is thine, O 
humble Savior, to cast this mighty idol self down from 
Iier seat, and utterly abolish itiitour souls. Thy hea- 
venly doctrine, though far from flattering the lusts of 
Hien, yet is not rigorous and severe, even when thou 
gayest, if any man* will come after me^ let him deny him- 
self For what thou requirest of us, thou workest also 
in us, and goest before us by thy own encouraging ex- 
ample. For this end thou laidst down thy life, "that 
they which live might not live unto themselves, but 
unto him that died lor us." 



ON HUMILITY, 

HUMILITY consists in a low opinion of one's 
self, and in a contempt of vain glory. He that shines 
with this noble grace, is a person whose high imagina- 
tions have been cast down ; not by the force of moral 
precepts, but by the mighty weapons of the christian 
warfare. Once he thought he was something, now ha 
sees that he is nothing. Once he was desirous that 
other men should think highly of him, and he loved to 
have the preeminence ; but now he can, in some sin- 
cerity, say, with the royal Psalmist, " Mine heart is 
not haughty, neither are mine eyes lofty. I have be- 
trayed and quieted mvself as a child weaned of his 



mother. My soul is even as a weaned child.' 9 Shall 
we describe him in relation to his neighbor, and to his* 
God? 

In relation to his neighbor, he thinks more mean- 
ly of himself than of others, or than others think of 
him ; and he never abhors himself more than when he 
is most highly applauded. His Savior was meek and 
lowly, when the multitudes were crying, hosanna. If 
you reprove him, he esteems it not an insult, but a 
kindness ; and is not ashamed to own that he was in 
fault, or error. Talk to the praise of another before 
him, and he is not disgusted, as though himself were 
rivalled and eclipsed. You tell him that some persoa 
of note has been left to fall, and be a scandal to reli- 
gion ; is he puiTed up on this account ? Nay ; he ra- 
ther mourns, and adores the freedom of restraining 
grace towards himself. You inform him of some, who, 
instead of praising him, revile and calumniate him ; 
but he is before-hand with his reproachers ; for he has 
more ill things to lay to his charge than these you 
mention, which makes him as a deaf man, io whose 
month are no reproofs. His rest is no more wounded 
than a dead man's would be, by thrusting a spear into 
his side. The contempt of bad men does not deter 
him from, nor the applause of good men incite him to 
the discharging of religious duties. He loves hm 
neighbor, not in proportion to the regard his neighbor 
expresses to him, but in proportion to his real worth. 
If he talks at any time in a humble strain about him- 
self, he is not laying snares for your applause. Hi3 
humble acknowledgments are not empty words, like 
the Dei gratia* which the proudest kings will write 
upon their coins; or like the pope's subscription to 
his haughty bulls, a servant of the servants of God ; but 
he speaks the genuine sentiments of his heart, and 
from the bottom of his very soul. If he is obliged at 
any time to vindicate his character from unjust aspeiv 



By the grace of God, 



148 

slops, it is with the greatest reluctance, and is afraid, 
lest he be talking like a fool. If he compares him- 
self with sinners, he is ready to think himself the 
ehiefest of them ; if with saints, he apprehends that he 
is. the least of them all. He sees some excellency a- 
bout the meanest of his fellow christians in which him* 
self is surpassed. His eyes are full of his own wants', 
aud the perfections of other men. 

In relation to God, how does he behave himself? 
He thinks that the blessings he receives from God are 
above, and the afflictions which God lays upon him 
are beneath his deserts. As to the former, he cries, I 
am not worthy cfihe least of all thy mercies. As to the 
latter, he acknowledges, thai hast punished me less" 
than mine iniquity deserves. If he sins against God, he 
takes the blame to himself; but if he does any good, 
he gives God the praise. I labored; yet not I. Not 
unto ns> not unto ns ; but unto thy name give glory. 

Instructed by this noble grace, he willingly sub-^ 
mits his proud reason to heavenly revelation ; and re- 
fuses not to admit for true, those tremendous mysteries' 
which far transcend his natural comprehension. But 
chiefly, being persuaded of the vast imperfection of his 
own righteousness, that his goodness extends not unto 
God ; that he is but an unprofitable servant, and a 
great deal w r orse, he despairs of himself, flies to the 
mercy, and submits unto the righteousness of God, as 
the sole ground of his pardon and acceptance. He 
cannot dig, he cannot work for life ; for he is a maimed 
beggar ; but to beg he Is not ashamed. 

This is that distinguished character of christian 
humility, to which the highest moralist can produce 
no claim ; nor can ever expect to arrive at, by all the 
precepts of philosophy. O blessed is that man, who is 
endowed with this humble spirit! Humility, thou first 
of graces ; thou leading ornament of every noble crea- 
ture ; without whom the most glorious accomplish- 
ments are eclipsed into disgrace ; with whom the most 
ordinary and mean qualifications are heightened into 
glory ! who should not love thy comely features ? aud 



149 

what tongue should be silent in thy praises ? Thou 
art the holy ornament of angels, who, in the awful 
presence of their Maker, cover their faces with their 
wings, and with their wings they cover their hands, 
when employed in services of love to man. 

The saints in every age have gloried in thee, as a 
most distinguishing ingredient in their character ; and 
according to their eminency, has been their measure 
of humility. The high and lofty One, who inhabits 
eternity, and will not give his glory to another, when 
from his high and holy place he views men and their 
works, he turns away disdainful from the pompous pa- 
laces of mighty kings, the courts of popes and sultans, 
and throws a favorable glance toward the humble cot- 
tage of him in whose heart thou dwellest. 

But above all, to recommend thy heavenly 
charms, the Son of God disdained not the form of a 
servant, the humble manger, the ignominious cross, 
the gloomy sepulchre. O let not man be proud, when 
God was so humble ! Begone from my heart, all self- 
elating thoughts ; hence my ambitious desires. But 
come holy humility, with all thy amiable train, and 
fix thy residence in my soul; predominate in my af- 
fections. Holy Spirit, make all her enemies her foot- 
stool ; and teach me to despise myself, except on ac- 
count of my rational and immortal nature, to spurn 
under my feet all vain glory, and to pursue the honor 
that cometh from God only. 



ON MEEKNESS. 

THE meek christian i3 one who has learned, at 
the school of Jesus Christ, to restrain unlawful anger*, 
and to moderate lawful resentment. If he is endued: 
with what is commonly called a good natural temp er* 
he exercises this good temper from christian motives ;: 
such as, the pardoning love of God, the command of 
the ..law, the example of Jesus Christ, who was meslsE 
N 2, 



150 

and lowly. But though his natural temper should 
happen to be fiery and eager, he has found the virtue 
of that promise. " The wolf shall dwell with the 
lamb ; the leopard shall lie down with the kid ; and 
the lion shall eat straw like the ox." He is not angry 
but on just occasions; and even when the occasion is 
just, his anger is kept under proper regulations. 

First, he is careful never to be angry but when 
there is a cause. To be angry at the irrational crea- 
tures, that are not capable of offending, or understand- 
ing their offence ; to be angry at his brother, because 
lie reproves him, or because he outshines him in gifts 
or graces, he endeavors to avoid. But especially he 
trembles to be angry at God ; whether on account of 
the strictness of his precepts, or the sovereignty of his 
dispensations. Jonah, you did not well to be angry, 
when God spared Nineveh, that great city, in which 
were so many thousand infants, and also much cattle* 

But be the cause ever so just, if it is only a per- 
sonal injury by which he is provoked, he is not soon 
angry. No ; this is the mark of a fool. By deferring 
his anger, he often discovers that there is no reason 
for it ; that no injury or affront was intended against 
him ; but perhaps his brother designed doing him a 
favor. He resembles not flax or gunpowder, that 
mount in a blaze at touching the least spark of fire, 
but he may be compared to green wood that is not ea- 
sily blown into a flame ; and to a flint that emits no 
sparkles, unless it be often and violently struck. He 
is not much angry. He will be so far from indulging 
the mad sallies of passion for trivial offences, that 
though the provocation were great, and the resentment 
strong, he acts like a reasonable creature ; and is not 
unfitted Tor the duties incumbent on hinu whether so- 
cial or religious. He is not long angry : he loves not 
that the sun should go down upon his wrath. He 
leaves it to the heathens to be implacable. He be- 
lieves that anger rests in the bosom of none but fools. 
He is swift to reconciliation ; and esteems it bis res! 
honor to pass ovejr a transgression* 



151 

Do you ask, what are the evidences of this fruii; 
of the Spirit ? First of all, it appears by his courteous 
and obliging behavior to all, his enemies and persecu- 
tors not excepted. Even them he is ready to serve, if 
it lie in his power, by discharging towards them the 
duties of humanity. It appears by the gentle strain of 
his discourse, which, like the waters of Siloah, go 
softly. When he is reviled, he reviles not again ; but 
either by a soft answer turns away wrath ; or, by a 
modest silence, and not answering again, he withdraws 
the fewel from the fire of strife. It appears by the 
sweetness of his looks, which are not sullen and mo- 
rose, but mild and inviting. But chiefly it appears hi 
the thoughts of his heart. The words, the looks, and 
the outward actions, are not infallible evidences of 
this heavenly temper. These may be no more but ar- 
tificial meekness. Even the fell tribunal of the inqui- 
sition can talk in the meek style, and recommend to 
mercy her wretched victims with cruel mockery. — But 
as he thinketh in his heart, so he is. He can think of 
his implacable enemy without wishing a curse unto 
him. He looks upon rancor harbored in the breast, as 
a more dreadful foe than any outward adversary possi- 
bly can be. 

He is a profitable hearer of the word; for, he re- 
ceives it with meekness. His prayers are pure and 
prevalent ; for he lifts up holy hands without wrath.— 
His reproofs are successful ; and let them be never so 
sharp, are well received, because the spirit of meek- 
kfcss anoints them like precious oil. He is clad in a 
kind of armor that renders him invulnerable. He lies 
not at the mercy of every puny assailant, that would 
attack him with the sword of the tongue; because, 
like a deaf man, he hears not. He is a most accepta- 
ble friend, and a most victorious enemy ; and his ene- 
mies, though like the devil for malice, are forced to re- 
verence him, When he shews out of a good conver- 
sation his works with meekness and wisdom, he is a 
bright image of Christ ; a living representation of God, 
who is slow to anger, of great kindness, and rcpentetk 



152 

fnm of the evil. He takes the most effectual method to 
promote even his temporal interest, ease, and reputa- 
tion. He has the real enjoyment of himself; is a true 
inheritor of th« earth. And God at last will beautify 
him with salvation. 



ON THE MERCIFUL MAtf. 

MERCY is a disposition to feel the miseries of 
others ; and to do what lies in our power to prevent 
and redress them. There is a natural mercy consist- 
ing in a softness of temper, and an aversion at seeing, 
hearing, or even thinking of the distresses of our fel- 
low-creatures. There is a moral mercy, when we pity 
the miserable from moral considerations. Both these 
may, no doubt, be found in unrenewed hearts, and were 
actually practised by many of the Gentiles that knew 
not God. A man who would shudder in every joint 
to see a fellow-creature broke upon the wheel, or broil- 
on the fire ; a man who would be far from thinking it 
a glorious spectacle to look at a ditch full of the blood 
of slaughtered men, is not immediately a merciful man 
in the full and scriptural sense. It is true, this hu- 
mane and gentle temper is far more amiable than sa- 
vage barbarity. To be implacable and unmerciful, is 
a truly heathen character ; and the habitations of cru- 
elty should be found no where but in the dark places 
of the earth. But there is a christian mercy, which iat 
often enjoined as a weighty matter of the law, and an 
eminent grace of the gospel ; and with which none are 
endowed but the elect of God ; the holy and the be- 
loved. Let us describe it from its springs, its objects, 
and its acts. 

The merciful man is one that loves to shew mer- 
cy, not only on account of a soft natural temper, self- 
interest, philosophical considerations ; but from an un- 
feigned regard to the authority of God in his holy law, 
an earnest desire after conformity to bis image ; and 



153 

especially from a serious sense of his pardoning mercy 
in Christ Jesus. How can he but forgive a few pence, 
who is himself forgiven in ten thousand talents ? Has 
God, all-gracious and merciful, opened his bowels of 
compassion to me, a wretched guilty creature : and 
shall I shut up my bowels of compassion from my dis- 
tressed brother? Shall I put on bowels of adamant 
and brass, who am a pensioner of the tender mercies 
of God 2 It is mercy that feeds me ; it is mercy that 
clothes me ; it is mercy that delivers my soul from the 
lowest hell, where I had been miserable beyond ail 
expression. I have freely received mercy, and shall I 
not freely give ? He is merciful to others, for God is 
merciful to him. 

Do you ask the objects about which this heavenly 
temper is versant ! It is the creature that is either ac- 
tually under, or else capable of misery. A good man 
is merciful to his beast, and much more to his brother. 
Merciful to his beast, did we say ? yea, to the beast of 
his mortal enemy. He would not suffer the ass of his 
most malignant foe, to die under his burden ; but 
would, according to the divine law, assist the helpless- 
animal. He could not even find in his heart wantonly 
to destroy, or without necessity torment, the most sig- 
nificant and despicable insect. Much more is he piti- 
ful and of tender mercy, towards those more noble be- 
ings of his own species. He weeps with them that 
weep. It is not the miseries of the body alone, for 
which he is melted inte commiseration. A diseased 
leprous soal is, to his view, a far more deplorable ob- 
ject than a distempered body. He pities the father- 
less and the widow; but much more the Godless and 
the Christless. He beholds transgressors like thee* 
O David ! and is grieved, because they keep not God's 
law. 

Shall we come to the works of mercy ? What are 
the sweet waters that issue from this fountain ? The 
merciful man will not always have it in his pow r er ac* 
tually to* relieve the distressed, but he weeps for them i 
wishes fgr them, pravs for them, aed does for them $c* 



154 

cording as he is able. If they are indigent, or in v 
of the necessaries of life, hungry or naked, he puts 
them not off with good words; but gives them things 
they have need of, or excites others to do it that are 
more wealthy. If they are insolvent, and unable to 
pay their just debts, he will not imprison, where no- 
thing can be had ; nor take for a pledge the utensils by 
which they must earn their daily bread, or the gar- 
ments in which they must sleep. If they are solitary* 
he will visit them ; if disconsolate, he will comfort 
them; if ignorant, he will instruct them; if doubtful, 
he will counsel them; if aspersed and calumniated un- 
justly, he will vindicate their characters ; if oppress- 
ed, he will espouse their cause ; if weak, he will bear 
their infirmities ; if careless and secure, he will warn 
tKem, and with compassion pull them out of the fire ; 
if they have fallen, he will endeavor to recover them, 
Bis wounds are faithful. Blessed be his anger, for it 
is kind ; his wrath, for it is merciful. Be remembers 
the blessed maxim of the apostle James, that " he who 
converteth a soul from the error of his way, shall save 
a soul from death ; and shall cover a multitude of 
sins." 

He is an image of God, who delights in mercy ; and 
remembers it even in the midst of wrath. He is an 
image of Christ, whose whole life was one continued 
track of shewing mercy. His Miracles were all of 
the merciful kind, but two. His death was a most em- 
inent act of mercy. And still he is a merciful High 
Priest, who is touched with the feeling of our infirmi- 
ties. Commonly the merciful man obtains mercy from 
man, when he stands in need of it ; as they have judg- 
ment without mercy, that shewed no mercy.— But 
whatever treatment they should receive from their fel- 
low-creatures, they shall obtain mercy of the Lord in 
that day, which will come to all others cruel with 
wrath, and with fierce anger. Yet, after all, it is not 
according to his own mercy, which is but a work of 
righteousness that he has done; but according to the 
ipercy of Qody he shall be saved. — Having obtained 



155 



raerey of the Lord, by which he was made mereiful at 
the first ; he shall obtain mercy more and more. 



ON TENDERNESS OF HEART. 

THE tender hearted christian is he from whom 
the hard and stony heart, which neither the hammer 
of judgment could break, nor the oil of mercy soften, 
is, in Some good measure, taken array. Bis understand- 
ing is no more so unteachable ; nor his affections so im- 
moveable as formerly. His will has laid aside her 
obstinacy ; and his conscience her insensibility. 

Shall we describe him first in relation to God ? 
One reproof, tendered in the sacred oracles, will enter 
rrioreinto his soul, than an hundred stripes into a fool. 
His heart stands in holy awe of the precepts, and 
trem'fles at the threatenings of the word of God. — 
But, O how melting, how alluring are the great and 
precious promises ! And all its heavenly doctrines 
drop as the rain, and distill as the dew ; not when it 
falls upon a rock, from which it runs presently off 
again ; but when it descends upon the parched ground, 
refreshing the thirsty earth, and making it as a water- 
ed garden, or a field which the Lord has blessed. As 
to the dispensations of divine providence ; he strives 
to know the language of them, and to comply with the 
design of the Almighty, both when he smiles and 
frowns. Shew 7ne, he cries, why thou contendest with me. 
Unlike these hardened wretches, whom the weeping 
Jeremiah describes in that most doleful lamentation : 
" thou hast stricken them, but they have not grieved ; 
thou hast consumed them, but they have refused to 
receive correction ; they have made their faces 
harder than a rock ; yea, they have refused to return. 
Bis flesh trembles for fear of God ; and he is afraid of 
his judgments." Ke sees when God's hand is liite* 
iy) ; he turns at his reproof, and learns righteousness 
when his judgments are in the earth.— While the ur 



156 

gsdly sinner despises the riches of his goodness, and 
after his hard and impenitent heart, treasures up 
writh against the day of wrath; he is led by the good- 
ness of God unto repentance ; and every mercy pains 
him to the heart. 

The influences of the blessed Spirit, he cherishes 
in the most kindly manner ; he is fearful to quench 
this holy fire, or fright away this heavenly dove, when 
he vouchsafes to alight upon his soul. He abhors their 
impiety, whose character it is, " ye do always resist the 
Holy Ghost." As to the divine glory and honor, he 
is grieved with whatever he judges to encroach upon 
it ; and cannot but choose to be uneasy and perplexed, 
when the interests of true religion are threatened with 
imminent danger. His heart, with Eli, trembles for 
the ark of God. 

Shall we describe him next in relation to his 
neighbor, for whom he puts on bowels of mercy, and 
with whose miseries he cannot be unaffected ? Is he 
not grieved for the poor? Does not his soul weep (or 
him that is in trouble ? But chiefly, he is touched 
with compassion for their deplorable condition, who go 
on in an evil course with prone career, whilst he 
sees them incurring the dreadful vengeance of the li- 
ving and almighty God. Rivers of waters run down 
his eyes, because they keep not his law. 

And with relation to himself, the tender hearted 
christian is careful to maintain the peace of his own 
conscience, to have that faithful monitor rightly form- 
ed ; and with the strictest attention to follow its im- 
partial directions. When the consciences of some 
are seared, as w r ith a hot iron, his may be resembled 
to the eye, that tenderest of organs, which even the 
smallest particle of dust will put into disorder. For, 
as to sin, by which alone the conscience is defiled, 
the tender christian is fearful to commit it, easy to be 
convinced, impatient to be purged. — Fearful to com- 
mit it; though secrecy and pleasure should cons;ure 
to tempt him with interest and advantage ; yet, under 
the infiuence of his tender frame, he baffles all tempta- 



157 

i . and even abstains from those actions of which 
he is suspicious ; being mindful of the apostle's max- 
im, he thai doubteih is condemned, if he eat. Re dares 
not come too near the borders of his christian liberty; 
lie studies not only what is lawful, but what is expe- 
dient for him ta do,— Easy to be convinced ; he does 
not add rebellion to his sin; like them whose perverse- 
ness is as witchcraft, and their stubbornness is as idola- 
•try. 

He goes not about to cover his transgression, as 
Adam ; but takes with his iniquity, when it is said un- 
to him, Thou art the man. A very look will melt his 
heart, and make him, like that fallen, but recovering 
apostle, who denied his Lord, go forth and weep bit- 
terly. — Even when lie has not a monitor to warn him, 
of his sin and danger, his own heart will smite him. 

But when the tender Christian is convinced, what 
does he ? Abandon himself to careless stupidity, and 
wallow in the mire ? No: while he keeps silence, hi* 
bones will wax old, through his roaring ail the day, 
*' Restore, he cries, the joy of thy salvation. Wash me 
from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin." — - 
" For God maketh his heart soft, and the Almighty 
troubleth him." 



ON GRATITUDE. 

TOE thankful christian is he who thinks highly 
of the benefits he receives from others, especially irom 
God ; and is disposed to make all the suitable returns 
that lie in his power, whether by word or deed. Re 
no less abhors ingratitude towards his God than to- 
wards his neighbor. And in every condition, he 
writes himself a debtor to the Almighty. Eim he re- 
gards as his principal benefactor; him, as the fountain 
of his life, and joy, and comfort : the creatures as the 
conduit" pipes through which they are conveyed. If 
he is refreshed by the kindly visits of an agreeable 

o 






158 

frieiu! ; it is God who comforts him. He sees his 
fice as the face of God. If by prudent counsel, he i • 
prevented from carrying any unworthy projects into 
execution : such is the language of his heart, " blessed 
be the* Lord God of Israel, which sent thee this day to 
irieet me ; and blessed be thou, and blessed be thy ad- 
vice, which kept me back." 

If the gifts of ministers have been edefying and 
refreshing to his soul ; he adores him who puts the 
treasure into these earthen vessels. Solomon must 
have a thousand; but the keeper of the vineyard two 
Imndred. 

No mercy, however little, can be despised by 
him ; whilst he considers ijie greatness of the giver, 
and the imworthiness of the receiver. He is so far 
from thinking himself entitled to the great and distin- 
guishing favors of providence, that he confesses him* 
s eit" unworthy of the least of all his mercies, as having 
Bathing due, bat wrath and indignation. 

He does not bury the former loving kindnesses of 
the Lord in the grave of a bad memory, as though the 
oldness of their date cancelled his obligations ; but 
every renewed mercy he regards as a new indenture. 
!* Bless the Lord, O my soul, he says ,; forget not all 
his benefits." 

Is he in prosperity ? he rejoices. For it is God 
who comforts him. Is he in adversity ? he rejoices ; 
for it is God who corrects him. Afflictions he con- 
siders as blessings in disguise ; as mercies which God 
vouchsafes him, even against his will. Is he punished 
for his sins ? he is thankful ; for God " punishes less 
than iniquiiy deserves." Is he chastened for his pro- 
fit ? he is thankful ; for it is that he " may not be 
condemned with the world." Is he persecuted for 
righteousness sake ? he is thankful ; for " it is given 
him in the behalf of Christ,' not only to believe in his 
nsjne, but also to suffer for his sake." 

To enhance divine favors the more, he sets a pe- 
culiar mark on the endearing circumstances that at- 
tend them, Such a mercy was bestowed, when I was 



15# 

going frowardly in the way of my own heart, and 
might rather have expected tribulation ami ang&ish. 
Such a blessing was conferred, when I was reduced to 
the greatest extremity, and in the utmost article ot dan- 
ger. For this I solicited the throne of grace, and he 
heard me out of his holy teniple. With that he pre- 
vented my supplication ; and before I called he did 
answer. 

Such are the sentiments wherewith his heart is 
only touched, for all those good and perfect gifts, that 
come down from heaven. Bur chiefly for spiritual 
blessings in Christ Jesus ; for thine unspeakable gift, 
O God ; and that mercy which is from everlasting to' 
everlasting. 

What thanks can he render unto God for all the 
joy wherewith he rejoices on his behalf ? Too big 
for the heart, it overflows into the tongue, and extends 
itself unto the life and conversation. He does not 
ihank God, like the proud pharisee, with a design to 
praise himself ; nor like the flattering hypocrite, by 
way of compliment and form. When he gives God 
goodly words, he rests not in mere verbal honor ; but 
whilst he offers praise he orders his conversation 
aright, and pays his vows to the most High. Has his 
liberal God any command for his wealth and sub- 
stance ? it is at his service. For his name, credit, 
and reputation ? it is ready at hand. For his wit and 
i earning ? it shall not be wanting. Yea, neither 
counts he his life dear unto him, if called for at his 
hand. Gratitude will teach his eye to weep for the 
dishonors that are done to his bountiful Benefactor;— 
his hands to open in charitable distributions ; — his 
feet to run in the way of his commandments. Grati- 
tude for the mercies of God will enable him to present 
bis body a living sacrifice, which is his reasonable sei> 
vice, holy and acceptable unto God. 



160 



ON RESIGNATION 

BE it so ; the providential ways of God do nos 
perfectly harmonise with his weak views, nor suit hi» 
private inclinations ; if any harsh thought of God 
should arise in his heart, prompting him to niter words 
unadvisedly with his tongue ; the resigned christian 
will check the rising thought, and keep the door of 
Ms lips with that reproof of the apostle, " wfio art 
thou, O man, that repliest against God ?" And as he 
trembles to arraign the judge of all the earth, for 
what he has already done ; so he dreads to prescribe, 
with an unholy boldness, what is farther proper for 
him to do, who is the Governor among the nations. 

If the favors of providence are distributed in a 
manner that is, to outward appearance, not altogether 
so advantageous to the cause of holiness and truth ; 
when the wicked are great in power, diffusing their 
Yerdant pride like a green bay-tree ; he ceases from 
anger, and forsakes wrath, and frets not himself in any 
wise to do evil. He rests on the Lord, and waits pa-, 
tiently for him. He lets God alone to be the govern- 
or of the world. 6i For, who hath instructed the Spirit 
of the Lord ? and who hath been his counsellor ?" It 
the subjects of earthly princes submit unto their ordi- 
nances, and acquiesce in their administrations, even 
though strangers to the arcana of their government ; 
much more he judges it incumbent on him not to 
presume" to censure the mysterious administrations of 
the blessed and only potentate, all whose ways arc 
judgment. 

Or, U the more distinguishing favors of divine 
grace and mercy are dispensed in an absolute and 
sovereign way; while some are sharers of them, and 
others equally deserving are passed by ; he dares not, 
with certain } old blasphemers, traduce the almighty 
King> as though he were acting the part of a cruel and 

rary tyrant. For, he consider^ £hat he may og 



161 

ivh- II v\!ih his own. — As some high towers; 

though finished according to the nicest rules of archi- 
tecture : Yet, lo (lie spectator's eye, who views it in 
the plain below, may seem crooked: and as threaten* 

a hideous fail, merely through the deception of 
the sight; so, u the high decrees of the holy One 
should seem,, at any time, partial and unequal? he 
imputes it to the weakness of his sight, and net at 
all to the uature of the decrees themselves, " even 
so Father, he saysj for so it seemed good in thy 
sight." 

Perhaps he is touched in some tender point ; his 
afflictions are singular. He is visited with a distress 
that scarcely happens In an age, to which it is hard 
to find a precedent, or a parallel* Yet, even in such 
a case, will the resigned christian say, " it is (he 
Lord, let h-im do what seemeth him good," 1 Sam. iii t 
18. Though he be called to quit his earthly posses- 
sions for t T .e sake of truth, and to forego some worldly 
comfort that he most passionately loved ; goes he 
away sorrowful, like him that had great possessions 2 
Nay, but like the afflicted, though patient Job, he 
says, " behold, he taketji away, who can hinder him & 

and who shall say unto him, what doe|j> thou ?'\ - 

And with faithful Abraham, when about to offer up 
his beloved Isaac, he rises early in the morning to 
keep the word of the Lord. — But we must not at all 
forget thy most examplary resignation, O persecuted 
king of Israel, when living before an, unnatural son, 
from thy royal palace and city, But, u if be shall 
say I have no delight in thee ; behold here am I, let 
Lim do to me as seemeth good unto him," 2 Sam. xv, 
20. Though even his days are shortened, and his 
purposes broken off, he considers that his times are 
wholly in the hand of God : m obedience to the will 
of God he falls asleep ; and, like Moses, dies at the- 
command of the Lord. His soul is not takerr from, 
him, but he yields it into the hand of God, as the ii>- 

of it, that he may shew it in the path of life* 
o 2. 



162 

If the answer of his prayers flies not upon- the 
wings oi the wind, he does not presently commence a 
suit against the hearer of prayer. For, still he casts 
not away his confidence, that " if he asks any thing 
according to his will, he heareth us." Heareth us in 
the time himself knows to he the most proper; and in 
what manner should be most conducive to his glory 
and our good. 

In ail his enterprises, he leaves the event in the 
hand of God. The common phrases, " if the Lord 
will ■;" and, " if God permit ;" are not mere words of 
form and custom, when proceeding out of his mouth, 
but they are expressive of his heart ; as being persua- 
ded that his dominion is absolute ; " for he is higher 
than the highest;" that his purpose is immutable; for, 
" c he is the rock of ages;" that his power is irresistible; 
for, " unto him shall every knee bend." Ke is persua- 
ded of the title God has to him, greater than that of 
parents to their children, of princes to thdr subjects... 
or even of the potter to his clay. How can he be but 
all submission ? 

But chiefly his resignation is inspired by the 
knowledge he has of the tenderness of that care which 
he exercises* towards him, because he is very pitiful, 
and of tender mercy.-— When- he reflects, what a good 
being sits at the helm of affairs ; let them that can be 
miserable ; he cannot possibly be sOi As the bee 
puta not forth its sting to the hive, when stored with 
honey gathered from a thousand (lowers, no more can 
he put forth any sting of fretful murmurs, when he 
tastes that the Lord is good. He trusts in him, and he 
is blessed,. 



ON PATIENCE, 

THE patient christian is he who bean? up, in a 
becoming manner, under the painful sense of evil pre- 
sent, and tedious expectation of absent good. It is 
true, he is not proof against the inroads of sorrow, and 



163 

feelings of uneasiness ; he pretends not to the Insensi- 
bility of the blustering stoic, as though his texture va- 
ried from that of other mortals. His heart is not 
made of stone, his flesh of brass, nor his bones of iron. 
Confessions of distress may be extorted from him ; — 
but his great soul disdains to be overcome by the 
greatest severity of trouble, so as to utter vflth his 
mouth any impious complaining thought, or hasten 
with his feet to a sinful deliverance. Sometimes 
he has been known to glory in tribulation ; to 
take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in neces- 
sities ; and count it all joy, if he fell into divers 
temptations. 

If he cannot attain to this triumphant gloriation, 
when patience has her perfect work, he studies to 
maintain a cheerfulness of temper, and a calm sereni- 
ty of spirit. But, if he cannot be cheerful, he is silent. 
— The sovereign will of God is the resistless argu- 
ment he uses with his own heart, whilst he considers 
the various iiis of life, not as the births of blind and 
fatal necessity, but as the appointments of eternal 
wisdom, both in their weight and number. He is just- 
ly persuaded, that if consulting angels had contrived 
his best and properest affliction, and chose it to his 
hand, they could not have half so well adjusted what 
concerns him. — He trembles to reply against the God 
whom all the elements and powers of nature serve, who 
gives no account of his matters ; all whose dispensa- 
lions are the result of excellent wisdon, contrivance, 
and design. Every bitter cup he considers as brewed 
in heaven, and presented by a Father's hand. " The 
men which are thine hand, Lord," is the style he 
gives the instruments of his -affliction, " and the man 
which is thy sword." He balances the desert of his 
iniquities with the grievousness of his trials ; and 
bears the indignation of the Lord, for that he hath sin- 
ned against him. He considers the benefit oi the rod, 
and sees it blossoming, like Aaron's, and yielding the 
^ea^cabie fruits, of righteousness- 



164 

Tf the captain of his salvation assigns for him a 
post of danger, like a good soldier, he does not repine* 
but rather deems it a very singular honor. The louder 
shall be the applause, when he returns victorious from 
the battle. Whilst with his eye of faith he commands 
the vast unbounded prospect of eternity, the longest 
peri<H#of time dwindles into a point : and why should 
that be much regarded by him, which is but for a mo- 
ment ? No evil befalls him but he sees it common 
unto men. 

The prophets, who have spoken in Ihe name of 
the Lord, and those of whom the world was not wor- 
thy, he has for his examples of suffering affliction and 
of patience. But chiefly he regards thy sufferings, 
blessed Jesus; — the sorrows of thy life; — the agonies 
of thy death ; — thy bleeding cross ; — the anguish of thy 
deserted soul ; — and he remembers his own misery u® 
more. 

The scriptures are his grand dispensary, where 
he finds balsamic truths, and healing doctrines. A 
text of Paul is more powerful to support his fainting 
soul, than a sentence from Seneca; a thought of Solo- 
mon, than a paragraph of Epictetus. — Of all conquer- 
ors, he is the greatest ; for even when conquered, he 
overcomes. His greatest enemies prove most friend- 
ly, and plait for him a crown of glory. 

! Sickness is better to him than health;— loss than 
gain ; — death than life. While the vessels of clay 
crack in fire ; he, like a vessel of gold in the furnace, 
makes no din, but comes out more renned. — Patience, 
thou art thy own reward. Great is thy present peaces. 
Eternal is thy future glory. 



ON FORTITUDE. 

O FORTITUDE, thou noble grace; not earthly 
is thy original. The desperado knows Hue n<> Y ; uor 
tk% blustering gallant ; who. for a glut of icli revci«ge > 



165 

ar the false name honor, dares risk his life in the de- 
tested i\ue\. Christianity alone inspires thee : God 
and angels applaud thee. While cowardise (alls into 
the dangers she would avoid, and loses the life she in- 
tended to save : it is thine to make more than a con- 
queror in whatsoever event. Seated on thy triumph- 
ant chariot, thou draggest, at thy glowing wheels, both 
shame and fear; a dreadful pair. Humility, with pru- 
dence, manage thy reins ; and glory stands behind 
thee.-— -By thee the hero is led into the glorious field, 
and whilst by thee inspired, and love to his dear coun- 
try, his ears drink in the dreadful thunders of war with 
a peculiar pleasure ; and his eyes behold the dismal 
scenes of terror and amazement, nor turn away abhor- 
rent. — By thee the stiii more glorious martyr rejoices 
in sternest tribulations. So strange is thy enchanting 
power, galling fetters are turned into delightful orna- 
ments ; illuminated is the gloomy dungeon ; prisons 
are palaces, and delectable orchards; and furious 
ilames, fit to torment with keenest anguish, are beds of 
roses, soft and perfumed, as burning martyrs- have de- 
clared. By thee the King of martyrs, who witnessed 
a good confession, 'was taught to endure the racking 
cross, and to despise the shame. — Whilst by thee, the 
joy that he now possesses was set before him, and the 
almighty Father as his helper, he set his face like a 
ilint. and made his heart like an adamant. Great is 
ihy present glory. Eternal is thy future reward. 

Is then the bloody field, the ;-caiibld, or the stake, 
the only theatres for holy fortitude? Perhaps the 
cause of your country, and the cause of your Redee- 
mer, may never call you to expose and cast away 
your life. But go, and bravely dare to be singular ia 
a declining age ; though hissing crowds should point 
at you as you go along ; and the men of fashion should 
despise you. Reverence the sabbath. Reverence the 
name of the Lord. Bow the knee : and let the voice 
of praise be heard in your dwelling. Reprove the 
bold blasphemer. Confess your faults, when it is for 
$ie glory of God ; knowing that it is better to have &, 



166 

wound, a blot in your reputation, than your coir- 
sciez&'eJ And before you will endeavor to retrieve 
your situation in the world, by dishonest baseness, 
open the door to honest poverty. Be it the leading 
maxim of thy life, that nothing is greatly shameful, 
but siu ; nor greatly fearful, but the displeasure of 
your Maker. In the present life you shall have peace 
of conscience ; and, in the world to come, receiv e an 
incorruptible crown. 



'ON CONTENTMENT. 

THE christian who rejoices in this excellent 
grace, is one who would not indeed be satisfied with 
all this world affords, as his eternal portion ; yet can 
he say, even of his smallest share, it is enough. — 
Whether he views himself as a member of the great 
society of the universe, or of the civil society, to 
which he particularly belongs, he is pleased with the 
station which providence has allotted for him. He 
looks not with envy on those above him; and repels 
not only outward murmurings against the disposer of 
his lot, but inward repinings. 

If the middle state of life be that which falls him, 
where he is equally removed from the pomp of wealth, 
and the indigence of poverty, he considers it by far 
the more eligible condition ; like him who prayed, 
ft give me neither poverty nor riches,*'' For, as the 
panes of glass in our windows, by their hardness and 
solidity, bid a defiance to the stormy blast; yet, by 
their transparency, admit the cheerful beams of the 
sun ; so does this middle state of life defend him from 
the injuries of the world ; and at the same time, it 
excludes not the divine favor, ncr darkens the light of 
his countenance ; whilst the wealthy are exposed to 
peculiar temptations ; and the poor are not without 
their manifest inconveniences, and even solicitations 
Wito iniquity, 



167 

But, if poverty and want be his associates, whe- 
ther entailed upon hiqj by his birth, or introduced by 
ihe hand of accident or calamity, he can cheerfully 
welcome these unjoyous guests, and find them very 
tolerable companions. — As the soldiers had no power 
to break the bones of his Redeemer, " when they saw 
that he was already dead :" so poverty, with her at- 
tendant train of miseries, is unable to break his bones, 
and wound his rest, when he is crucified to the world. 
Ee knows, though he could call the world his own, 
God never put therein such heavenly virtue, as to in- 
spire contentment ; reserving this as his own great 
prerogative. 

Why should he be rendered miserable, by the 
want of that, whose presence would not make him 
happy ? If he has not all the advantages of riches 
nnd a&luence ; neither is he harrassed with the anx- 
ious cares, and dismal fears, and other sore tempta- 
tions, to which those in high life are necessarily sub- 
ject. — If he shines not in the glitter of plenty, how 
many darts of agony will he escape ! So, thunders 
strike tall trees and lofty mountains, while humbler 
shrubs, and lowly vales, remain untouched. 

This world he regards as an inn, where the short- 
ness of his stay reconciles him to the indifferency of 
his accommodation : and, as a theatre, where it mat- 
ters not whether he act the pari of a king or a peasant; 
hut how veil he acquits himself in the character he 
assumes. He is not always poring on the dark side of 
his lot, and reflecting how many are happier than him- 
self: but 6ft times turns his thought upon the favora- 
ble ingredients of his condition; and recollects how 
many have been, and are, this precious moment, more 
miserable than he. 

If a valuable friend, or a beloved relative, is torn 
from his bleeding bosom by the relentless hand of 
death, he remembers how many still survive. — Be ne- 
ver can persuade himself that he is poor, whilst pos- 
sessed of so much natural wealth as a man, and so 
much heavenly treasure as a christian. The glorious; 



168 

£&H5py of heaven he considers as the roof of his earth* 
ly mansion, far more majestic*than that of the most 
magnificent palace, tho' adorned with glittering silver 
and refulgent gold. The green earth is the carpet on 
which he treads. When the chrystal well supplies 
him with drink, he can forego the flowing bowl. The 
golden sun, the sparkling stars, and the smiling flowers 
that strew the earth, shew more glorious in his eye. 
than gems and diamonds; and, indeed, are as truly 
possessed by him, as these are of their owners.— 
Health of body, soundness of mind, (blessings which, 
for their commonness, are but too generally forgot,) 
excite the most grateful emotions in his heart. But 
especially as a christian, O how his riches ! how his 
treasures are replenished ! God himself is the portion 
of his cup; and the word of God the charter for his 
inheritance. 

How can he be envious at the prosperity of the 
wicked, when the unknown merits of Fmmanuel are 
■all his own ? Though he has but little, he knows it 
is the earnest of infinitely more ; and every table that 
is si read for him in the wilderness, was purchased by 
his Redeemers blood, before it was procured by his 
labor,. It is not indeed a little of God will satisfy 
Mm ; nor will he be pleased with a small share in the 
treasures of eternity. These best gifts he most ear- 
nestly covets. But as to temporal acquisitions, he es- 
teems it " better to be of a humble spirit with the 
lowly, than to divide the spoil with the proud." 

By moderating his desires, he has fa*md out the 
noble secret of turning every thing to gold, and finds 
a compendious way of obtaining whatever he will. — - 
He is a true Benjamite who can use the left hand as 
well as the right ; and manage both fortunes to advan- 
tage : and fbe liveliest image of the blessed God ; for, 
like Sbifciftdn's good man, he ranges not abroad for 
happiness, being " satisfied from himself.'" 



169 



ON CONTEMPT OF THE WORLD. 

BUT, what shall we say of him who despises the 
world, and its fashions that pass away ? Shall we say, 
that he is lazy and indolent in his lawful calling, neg- 
lecting to provide for his own? No: for we find that 
even the Son of God himself, in the days of his obscu- 
rity, handled the tools of the carpenter. Or that his 
lawful comforts are tasteless and insipid to him ? How 
then should he be duly thankful to his all-gracious be- 
nefactor ? He neither admires the foolish action of 
him who threw his money into the sea ; nor the dis- 
contented practice of those, whether of the Pagan, 
Jewish, or christian denomination, who, being weary 
of the world, condemned themselves to a civil death, 
or voluntary banishment from the cheerful haunts of 
men, retiring to the lonely cell, or solitary desarl.-— *• 
He knows there is nothing better than for a man to 
rejoice in his labor. Even in his Worldly portion he 
enjoys his God, and reaps the love of his dying Re- 
deemer. 

But such is the acquaintance he has with the glo 
ry of heaven ; the dignity of his own soul ; the vain 
and hurtful nature of the world, that he highly dis- 
dains to set his affections on the things of the earth, 
either in whole, or in part, as though they could be 
the main springs of his felicity-. 

Is he placed in humble circumstances, having no 
large quantity of earthly goods at his command ? He 
discerns, in this providence, the kindly affection of a 
tender parent, removing from the reach of a beloved 
child, what might prove hurtful and pernicious, whilst 
those, for whom he has no such tender regard, are per- 
mitted to fall upon it; and, to their unspeakable pre- 
judice, to fill their bellies with his hidden treasure. — - 
He envies not, but rather pities the men of superior 
rank, whose wishes are not crowned by the abundance 
of their riches : but their sorrows are multiplied, and 

p 



170 

new lew el is added to their lusts ; and many of them, 
alas ! have their portion in this life. "As for those that 
set the world in their hearts, (by far too fine a frame 
for such a wretched pebble,) ail whose days are sor- 
row, and their labor grief; he can no more esteem 
them truly rich, than we should think the man happy; 
whose entrails should be tortured with a precious dia- 
mond, fit to shine in the crown of the most exalted 
monarch. 

If he is rich in this world, he is neither too joy- 
ful in having ; too solicitous in keeping ; too anxious 
in increasing ; nor too sorrowful in losing these cor- 
ruptible things. He rejoices more in the promises of 
the bible, than in the gold of his coffers. As the sea- 
men are careful not to admit into their vessel the waters 
of the ocean by any, the smallest cranny ; as well a- 
iv a re how quickly they would descend unto the bot- 
tom : so he is fearful to admit this world into his af- 
fections, lest he be drowned in perdition. He is MAy 
persuaded, that he is as much an idolater who oners 
the affections of his heart to the unrighteous mammon, 
and says unto fine gold, thou art my confidence, as that 
lie is an idolater who uncovers the head, kisses the 
hand, or bows the knee to an idol, or honors the vani- 
ties of the Gentiles with sacrifices and incense. Too 
eagerly to grasp wiiat is his own, he equally abhors, 
as violently to snatch at what is the property of his 
neighbor. Whilst the niggardly wretch wants what 
lie has, as well as what he has not, and his good is 
not in his hand ; he enjoys the gifts of providence, by 
moderately using them to the glory of his Creator, and 
ihe good of his fellow-creature. He steers the middle 
course between the sordid miser who lays up his ta- 
lent in a napkin ; and the prodigal waster, who con- 
sumes upon his lust what w r as given him for more no- 
ble ends. He thankfully receives, but does not anx- 
iously pursue the goods of fortune; nor abandon him- 
self to unmanly grief, when they make unto them- 
selves wings, and fly away. The world is dead to 
him. What though you bury it out of his sight ? Be 



171 

reverences himself, and highly disdains to place his 
happiness in what was only designed for his tempora- 
ry accommodation.— Mindful of his high original) he 
suffers not this servant to hear rule ; which were to 
submit to a slavery, of all others the most inglorious. 
Whilst lie converses much with things eternal and un- 
seen, he acquires a high disdain of the temporal things 
that are seen. Ashe who deals much in pieces of 
gold, thinks little of copper money ; the good of the- 
heavenly country is before him, even the better and 
enduring substance; and like the venerable patriarch, 
he regards not his stuff of worldly enjoyments, it he 
is called to forego them. He rejoices more that his 
friends are holy, than that they are wealthy ; and is 
more anxious to instil into the minds of his childrea 
sentiments of devotion, than to make them acquainted 
with the art of making their for time, and growing con- 
siderable in the world. Ke uses the world as a ilower> 
which preserves its beauty and verdure the longer the 
less you handle it. When the busy worldling at once 
throws up his interest in the comforts of time and 
pleasures of eternity, this heaven born soul has the 
true relish of life ; and, at the same time, can rejoice 
in ail the treasures of eternity as his own proper mer- 
cies. Happy soul ! he has provided for himself bags 
that wax not old, and durable riches, which no rust 
can corrupt, no thief can steal ; of which no storm, n& 
Conflagration, can bereave him. 



On the pursuit cfrccd riches. 

CAN he be poor that is an heir of God, whose 
erery perfection is more glorious than the mountains 
of prey ? Who can call the unsearchable riches of 
Christ his own ; and is interested in the Pearl of great 
price? Whose is that saving grace, more precious 
than gold tried in the hre ? that heavenly wisdom, that 
cannot be valued for jewels of fine gold ? Who can 



172 

rejoice in the divine ward, more than they that find 
great spoil : and take it for his heritage forever ? Who 
is rich in good works, which are profitable unto men ? 
Who can turn even reproaches into greater riches than 
all the treasures of Egypt ? Of whom it may be said, 
*' though he is not the lord of this village ; though that 
jppot of ground is not ploughed by his oxen ; that all 
things are his." Who, viewing the spacious garden of 
his wealthy neighbor, is transported by his thoughts to 
the celestial paradise ; and, beholding his magnificent 
palace, can meditate of the house not made with 
hands ? Who can lift his eyes to that blue vault of 
Jieaven, adorned with sparkling stars, and considers it 
as the pavement of his heavenly mansion ? Who can 
consider his scanty share of worldly good things, as 
the purchase of his Redeemer ; and a little that he 
hath, is better than the riches of many wicked ? He 
lias little ;— but it is the earnest of much ; it is not his 
portion :— -but it is sanctified by the word and prayer* 
He has little ; — but the blessing of the Lord maketh 
rich. He has little ; — but he lays it up in heaven, and 
lends it to a good creditor, even unto the Lord, who 
will render it again with usury. 

No ; he cannot be poor. For he is possessed of 
the true riches, in comparison of which, how is the 
gold become dim ? how is the most fine gold changed ? 

But he is poor, who, though he fill his house with 
silver and gold, high fed on the lap of fortune, is yet 
in straits, even in the fulness of his sufficiency. Care, 
like a greedy vulture, sits praying on his heart. He 
knows no other riches, but such as may be acquired 
with injustice, used with indiscretion, and possessed 
without happiness. 

Alas ! these corruptible things cannot redeem the 
so;j! from death ; nor deliver from the incumbent mise- 
ries of life. Will the head-ache be less perceived, 
that the temples are surrounded with a crown ? Will 
the fever be in the least abated, if the sick person is 
laid on a bed of state ? Par less will the resentful 
conscience be bribed with gold an$ palver to intermit 



173 

its wrath. See how they make unto themselves 
wings, and fly away ! How often has he solicited the 
cold hand of charity to-day, who yesterday washed 
his steps in butter, and lived on the finest of the wheat ? 
Where is the man whose glory ever descended into 
the grave ? 

O ye children of men, whose foreheads meet the 
skies ; whose souls are rational and immortal ; are 
these the precious acquisitions for which ye stoop ig- 
nobly down, and dig into the bowels of the earth ? Is 
it thus ye pant after the dust of the earth, and think 
no pains too great, no dangers too considerable, to de- 
ter you from the fantastic chase ? 

O did we know the things that are freely given 
ti3 of God ; did we know what is the riches of (he glo- 
ry of his inheritance in the saints ; how would we 
trample under our feet these lying vanities ! Are these 
thy. boasted offers, O vain world ? are these a portion 
for my soul ? Can these enable me to live up to my 
^native dignity ? Be gone ye vain pretenders. Wel~ 
comeTye durable riches ; ye safe enjoyments, that 
puff not up with haughty pride, nor are enemies to my 
peace, but are evidences of the divine love, and profit 
in the day of death. Let me call you mine, and I 
shall not know the approach of poverty. 



On an ingenuous and free spirit* 

HE greatly despises the admired things of the 
world as low and vulgar. He can behold the gilded 
chariots, the magnificent palaces, and splendid equipa- 
ges of the great, without a libidinous eye. — Conscious 
oi his native dignity as a man, and spiritual as a chris- 
tian, he rather scorns than fears to sin. His- mo*to is, 
reverence thyself ; and, from a principle of holy pride, 
he departs from iniquity, though shame and misery 
were not its inseparable attendants. The goodness 
of God has the most powerful influence upon him W 

r 2 



174 

lead him to repentance ; but he detests the hellish sd* 
phistry of those who say, " let us sin because grace a- 
bounds," He asks not, " what can the Almighty do 
for me ? What profit shall I have, if I keep his ordi- 
nances ?" He serves a loving Father, who spares 
Jiim as a man spareth his son, not for the love of wa- 
ges, but for the wages of love. He is touched with a 
generous concern for the glory of God, as well as his 
own salvation ; and for the good of his fellow-crea- 
tures, as well as his own interest. He does not say of 
this duty, is it absolutely necessary ? may I be saved* 
though I neglect it ? — Nor of that, what damage shall 
I sustain? will it infringe my reputation? will it en- 
croach on my estate ? But, is it the commandment of 
the Lord ? The reverence he has for God is not that 
fear which hath torment ; but that fear which is at- 
tended by love. He is more grieved by far for the 
displeasure done to God by his sin, than for any pun- 
ishment which he may have reason to expect. If you 
eclipse the countenance of the Almighty, who is his, 
sun and shield ; in vain shall the twinkling stars of 
world ly comforts scatter their feeble beams. He 
weepeth sore as in the night, because the Comforter 
that should relieve his soul is far away. He is not al- 
ways contriving htow he may serve God at the cheap- 
est rate ; but is rather at a loss what he shall render 
to the Lord for all his undeserved mercies. This was 
thy princely spirit, O royal prophet, " shall I offer to 
the Lord that which cost me nothing ?" His liberal 
soul deviseth liberal things. He disdains to be the 
servant of men; to see things with other eyes; to 
couch down under the burden of human imposition ; 
but he searches the scriptures daily to see if these 
things be so, that are told him by learned and holy 
men ; and rejects or receives accordingly. He is wil- 
ling to receive evil, as well as good from the hand of 
the Lord ; and makes not a grave of any present auc- 
tion, to bury the memory of former mercies. He can 
blush for those sins that are kept close from the eye 
of the world ; and mouru even for a long past ajid 
x \ 



175 

pardoned transgression. When God says unto him, 
seek ye my face ; he does not postpone this work till 
he is laid on the b«d of languishing ; resolving to allot 
those dregs of time to the service of the Almighty, 
which he cannot make a better of; but he remembers 
his Creator before the arrival of the evil day. 

Does he sist himself in the presence of God ? he 
behaves as though the eyes of men were upon him. — 
Does he converse with man ? he sets the Lord always 
before him. He is not so sordidly attached to the 
vain pleasures and enjoyments of the world, but he 
can, with the joy of the believing patriarch, obey the 
commandment of the Lord, and go forth, not knowing 
whether he goes. 



ON SINCERITY AND TRUTH. 

A LOVELY character indeed ! The person 
who is really possessed of it, is as a man who does 
not think one way, and speak another ; or speak 
one way and act another ; but he thinks as he 
speaks, and speaks as he does. In all his words 9 
in all his actions he pays the most inviolable regard 
to truth ; more than to his own interest ; more than 
to his own reputation ; yea, more than to his very 
life. Truth he esteems as the most precious of all 
things here below : — the bond of civil society, with- 
out which public communities were nothing else but 
companies of robbers and banditti : — an eminent part 
of the illustrious image of God ; and a very orient 
pearl in the crown of Jehovah ; who, that he might 
not stain the truth of his threatening, in acquiting the 
guilty, did stain the cross with the blood of his only 
begotten Son. For this end earnest thou into the 
world, O gracious Redeemer ! to bear witness to the 
truth ; and to confirm all the divine promises, which 
are yea, and amen in thee. 

How can the inhabitant of Zion allow himself, 
for any puny interest, to encroach upon these sacred 



J 16 

rights of truth ; for the asserting of which the most 
High has exerted himseliin such an amazing manner ? 
How can he puffer himself to turn aside unto the 
crooked paths of falsehood and dissimulation ? whe- 
ther in judgment or commerce, or in ordinary dis- 
course : For so should he forfeit all pretensions of 
belonging to that people whose Lord is the God of 
truth : of possessing that spirit, whose fruit is in all 
goodness, righteousness, and truth :— of being interest- 
ed in that Redeemer, whose name is the way and the 
truth : — and of being entitled to that inheritance, 
which is the land of uprightness, where nothing enters 
that toveth or maketh a lie. 

If he is called to act the part of a witness in civil 
judicatures, he would not so much as declare what he 
knows is a falsehood, though the disguising the truth, 
in the least instance, would tend ever so much to his 
advantage. Far less can he be guilty of that heaven- 
daring wickedness they are guilty of, who call the all- 
seeing majesty of heaven to testify against them, if it 
is not as they say, even when they are conscious that 
the contrary is the truth. O abhorred wretches ! is it 
thus you pour contempt on eternal Sovereignty ? thus 
you insult his omniscience? thus you bid defiance to 
Ms Almighty vengeance ? Yet he also is wise, # and 
wil! bring evil, and will not call back his words; and 
you shall know that it is a fearful thing to fall into his 
hands. 

In matters of commerce, he lays it down as his 
leading maxim, that honesty is the best policy. He ne- 
ver can think it an advantageous bargain, that dero- 
gates from the peace of his conscience, whilst it puts 
money into his coffers. He no: only abhors the gross- 
er methods of dishonest gain; such as the false bal- 
ance, the bag of deceitful weights, but the more gen- 
teel, or less shameful artifices of fraud and circumven- 
tion. Such are these, which Solomon touches ar. 
with beautiful simplicity : a It is naught, it is n. ught v 
sayetfi the buyer; but when he is gone away, then he 
boasleth ,** 



17? 

Nor is this godly sincerity leas apparent in all his 
social interviews, or friendly communications. If he 
tells an$r story for true, to divert the company where 
he is, he takes care it be really a matter of fact : as 
rightly judging, that nothing can render a man more 
silly and ridiculous in the eyes of a rational beholder, 
than to coin absolute fictions, or dress up matters of 
fact by strange additions, in the garb of novelty, and 
all for no other end, but to keep the company in good 
humour, and gain their admiration. If he loses an ar- 
gument about any painful doubt, sincerity forbids him 
to give out, that he is fully clear, when, perhaps, he is 
really in the dark ; and that he sees no force at all in 
his neighbor's argument, though, perhaps, it amounts to 
a resistless demonstration. If he gives a character of 
any absent party, he is careful to avoid all hyperbolic- 
al descriptions, whether they tend to diminish or exalt 
the worthiness of the person spoken of. If he makes 
a promise, though about a trivial matter, he thinks 
himself obliged to fulfil it. And lastly, in passing of 
compliments, his courtesy does not intefere with his 
veracity ; pretending the greatest warmth of kindness 
and affection, when, perhaps, his esteem is very low, 
and his affection very cold. His love is without dis- 
simulation. 



ON TEMPERANCE. 

" BEAR and forbear," is a precept which may 
include under it, if not the whole, yet a very great 
part of moral duty. The first part of the maxim relates 
to the afflictions, the latter part refers to the pleasures 
of life. Are you in adversity ? do things happen to 
you, not as you could wish ? Bear them in a becom- 
ing manner ; and let patience have her perfect work, 
Are you in prosperity ? do the pleasures of life lie 
within your grasp ? Moderate your desires by tempe- 
rance : and forbear every unlawful gratification. If 



178 

you want temperance to use discreetly the pleasurable 
good things which you enjoy, they are turned into real 
evils, as afflictions are turned into good by the exer- 
cise of patience. 

Temperance is the power and command which a 
man has over himself, in moderating those appetites 
which are common to us with the beast. Gluttony, 
drunkenness, and lust are the opposite vices. The 
two first are opposed to sobriety, and the last to 
chastity. 

It is a melancholy matter, that ever intemperance 
should be deemed a necessary article in the character 
of a gentleman. Why should it not be regarded in the 
same light as treachery or lying ; seeing it is equally 
condemned by the light of nature itself ? Be it so : 
this ugly hag has the appearance of good humor, and 
has many votaries among your gallant spirits ; to be 
intemperate is the most horrid ingratitude in its own 
nature, and argues a littleness of soul, and narrow way 
of thinking, extremely contemptible. Was it for this, 
O ye sons of intemperence ! your bountiful Creator 
endowed you with his own resemblance; gave you 
that comely grace, and dignity of aspect, by which 
your bodies are distinguished from the brutes ? Was 
it for this, he spreads your table with unsparing libe- 
rality, and gives you all things necessary to support 
your lives, and comfort your hearts ? That human 
nature, which is by you defiled with filthy lusts, your 
Creator deigned to assume, when he took upon him 
the form of a servant. In this same human nature the 
Holy Spirit deigns to dwell. And the time is fast 
approaching, when many parcels of it shall be raised 
in glory, and clothed with immortality ; but what is 
this to j'ou, who seem to disclaim your humanity ; and 
while you affect to be artificial brutes, are worse than 
the natural ones ! Such knowledge is too wonderful 
for you ; such motives too celestial to have influence 
upon your sensual minds. Yet shall the tru!y wise 
be influenced from such considerations to cleanse 
their way. 



179 

As to the pleasures which are supposed to attend 
upon sensuality of every sort, coolly viewed, they will 
appear infinitely deficient. He who is perpetually 
feasted with a cheerful conscience, is an epicure of a 
right kind. The pleasures of temperance are by far 
superior to those of her rival ; perhaps in real poign- 
ancy ; but sure I am, if fleshly satisfactions have any 
thing to recommend them on their own account, the 
attending evils swallow up the imaginary pleasure ; 
as Pharaoh's lean kine eat up the fat and well favored 
ones. 

As a physician, I could advise you against in- 
temperate courses. Temperance is natural physic, 
whereas intemperance is artificial distress. Are you 
not beset round about with fatal distempers ? Is not 
old age soon to wrinkle yoftr face ; and death to toss 
his dart ? Why invite these un joyous guests ? They 
will come soon enough of their own accord. O if you 
could but think what an ugly set you give unto your 
features ! Lo ! there is a looking-glass, drunkard, 
which Solomon holds unto youriace. " Who hath 

" wo ? who hath sorrow ? who hath contention ? 

u who hath babblings ? who hath wounds without 
" cause ? They that tarry long at the wine, and go 
" to seek mixt wine." When the glutton is murder- 
ed by his own mud ; and when the flesh of the adul- 
terer is consumed ; — then shall he mourn. O Britain ! 
Britain ! though famine, pestilence, and war, should 
never visit you again ; yet this is a destruction that 
wasteth at noon-day. 

As your lawyer, I might tell you, how this vice 
drains ^your worldly substance ; is a fire that wast- 
eth to destruction ; and will bring you to a morsel of 
bread. 

As a philosopher, I might put you in mind,, that 
it makes you less than a man ; darkens the under- 
standing, takes away the heart, metamorphoses you 
into a beast. 

But especially as a divine, I must tell you, that 
for these things' sake the wrath of God cometh on the 



180 

children af disobedience. We are taught by our holy 
religion, to consider the lusts of intemperance, as the 
procuring cause of temporal judgments ; of eternal 
death. What cast Adam out of paradise ? Intempe- 
rance. What brought the flood on the old world ? In- 
temperance. What kindled Sodom's flames, and laid 
in ashes the cities of the plain ? Intemperance. In- 
temperance brought on national judgments upon the 
Jews, and exposes to everlasting burnings. — It is re- 
lated by an eminent author in his travels, that in some 
places of Germany, they executed certain capital of- 
fenders in a very extraordinary manner. There was 
an engine shaped like a handsome lady, which the 
criminal saluted, and afterwards retired. He returns 
again to salute the fatal machine : The figure opens 
its hands and cats him through the heart. " Knowest 
thou not that the dead are there ? that her guests 
are in the deeps of hell ? None that go in unto 
her return again ; neither take they hold of the path 
■of life." 



The harmony of the divine attributes ; or, the council of 
peace, 

AS yet there were no mountains covered with 
verdure, nor rallies clad with yellow plenty. The 
trees had not yet reared their lofty heads. There 
was no sun yet lighted up to spread the cheerful day ; 
$10 firmament glowing with lively sapphires. But the 
eternal mind alone existed. Himself was his own 
happiness. Beholding from his exalted prospect — 
(from which all future things are present) the nume- 
rous events which providence would bring forth, he 
spied the human race all grovelling in the dust, and 
utterly unable to recover themselves from a ruinous 
fall. He saw them, in their great progenitor, in the 
very morning of the world, involved in one common 
ruin x by the artful insinuation of a subtle apostate,—- 



181 

Re saw the mischief and spite of his implacable ad- 
versary, and resolved to redeem the lapsed uace in 
such a method, as should redound to the glory of his 
perfections, and the never-ending confusion of the ma- 
licious impostor. 

He is revealed to have called a solemn council, 
(for Ave must speak after the manner of men concern- 
ing him,) in order to concert the grand design. Holi- 
ness and wisdom were present, with all Iheir sister at- 
tributes ; hut chiefly, justice and mercy met together* 
Graces, which, like the sun and moon, are rarely seen 
together among the sons of men. 

And first, stern justice rose with an awful counte- 
nance. Justice, whose province is to see the rights of 
heaven. For, sooner would she tear the earth from 
her deep foundations, and blend it with the heavens in 
undistinguished ruin, than sutler any, the least in- 
fringement of the fundamental laws of God. She 
seemed to be altogether averse from the merciful de- 
sign. She pleads, that guilty man is no more the pro- 
per oJ^ject of mercy, than the angels that sinned. — 
Have they not violated thy holy laws, O righteous 
Father ? See what confusion and disorder sin has in- 
troduced into thy fair creation! How the beautiful 
subordination of all things to one another, and to thee, 
the great Creator and Governor, is disturbed ! — And 
therefore, die he must, or blot me out from thy nature, 
discard me from thy court, let me be no more the sup- 
porter of thy throne. 

Holiness and faithfulness did back the speech of 
justice. For my lustre is stained, said holiness, by 
sin; and my honoris pledged; said faithfulness, that 
the deserved punishment shall be inflicted ,• witness 
the threatening of the law. 

But a smiling attribute, in which the Almighty 
has a peculiar delight, next interposed. Her bowels 
were moved for us. With looks of gentlest aspect she 
held forth the olive branch of peace, and dropt these 
precious words, " shall mankind perish, thy youngest 
son, thy latest born ? Shall the avenging enemy al* 



18£ 

ways blaspheme thy name, and deem himself the cos-' 
queror ? O ! spare thy helpless tribe, befooled out of 
Hie and happiness ! €) ! stay thy arm of vengeance ! 
thou hast glorified these my sister attributes already, 
in ihy works ! I see the beauteous creation emerging 
out of nothing, to the glory of thy power and wis'lom ■! 
Holiness and justice have triumphed in punishing the 
sinning angels. Shall no ray of my glory shine forth 
in any of thy works ? Here is a proper season, O ! 
let me now.be glorified! It is true, O divine holiness ! 
you have been stained by sin ; nor is it less true, you 
are engaged to inflict the awful vengeance, O divine 
Veracity ! righteous are thy demands, O spotless Jus- 
lice ! but is there no surety who may be substituted 
I12 the room of ofiending mortals? Who is able ? Who 
3S wilting, to underlie the threatened vengeance £ 
Hast thou no expedient, O eternal Wisdom ! to an- 
swer the pleas of Holiness and Justice ? Canst thou 
not devise, how Faithfulness shall be verified, and 
Mercy be displayed ?" 

Eternal Wisdom then proposed for the surety, the 
second person of trinal-unity. It is true, we cannot 
find one equal to the mighty task among the angels, 
or the human race. But, let the Son of God become 
man ; let him do ; let him die ; let him rise again.- — 
The malicious adversary shall behold, with keen des- 
pair, all his designs blasted : God will be highly glori- 
fied. And even the gracious Redeemer will be highly 
exalted. While mankind will be honorably saved, by 
a righteousness of infinite worth and everlasting dura- 
tion. O glorious device ! 

The gracious overture found universal accept- 
ance ; the Son of God consented. Mercy rejoiced. - 
Justice sheathed her sword. Faithfulness laid her 
hand on her mouth. And Holiness shone out in bright 
eifuigence. 



183 



ON STEDFASTNESS, 

AS the plant never can thrive, which is always 
removed by the gardener from one spot to another ; 
neither can the christian abound in the work of the 
Lord, who is not stedfast and immoveable. But where 
shall stedfastness be found ? In the jangling schools., 
among the wise men, the scribes, the disputers of the 
world ? Alas ! none have been more unlearned, more 
unstable, more pernicious wresters of the scripture, to 
their own destruction, than the persons of this deno- 
mination. Far less can the obstinate bigot lay any 
just claim to this character. So call him, who is eagerly 
attached to the peculiarities of his party, without be- 
ing able himself to render a reason for his persuasion j 
or willing to undergo an impartial enquiry. 

But the established christian is the person who 
has heard and learned of the Father ; who knows the 
power of divine truth on his heart and conscience. — 
Long perhaps he wandered in uncertainty ; had no 
Where to lay his head, or fix the sole of his foot. But 
when he found these old paths, these good ways, he 
found his rest. Alighting, like the dove of Noah, on 
the true ark ; this is my rest, he says, and here I will 
abide. He is no more like the chaff, which, when se- 
parated from the grain, becomes the sport of winds ; 
but, rooted in Christ Jesus, he flourishes like the 
palm-tree, and grows as the cedar in Lebanon. His 
religious opinions are not now like travellers in an 
inn, that lodge but for a night; nor his holy resolu- 
tions like the morning cloud, or early dew, that pas- 
seth away. But that which he heard from the begin- 
ning abides in him ; and with full purpose of heart, he 
cleaves unto the Lord. He holds fast the profession 
of his faith without wavering ; and, by a patient con- 
tinuance in well doing, seeks for glory, honor, and in> 
mortality. Is he assaulted by the winds of vain doc- 
trine, and strong temptations? The strength of hjs 



184 

persuasion, and the firmness of Lis resolution, are so 
far from being overcome, (hat, on the contrary, they 
acquire a more unshaken stability ; as the tree, that is 
well rooted, clings closer to the soil fey being tossed 
m a tempest. 

He peruses the holy scriptures, and finds God's 
word as a hammer to fasten him, as a nail in a sure 
place. He purifies his heart from every vile affection, 
and holds the mystery of faith in a pure conscience. 
lie prays without ceasing, and finds his heart united 
to fear God's name continually. He sets before his 
eves the stedfastness of his Redeemer ; who, in the 
©ause of his salvation, did set his face like a flint ; and 
knew that he should not be ashamed: — and the ex- 
amples of those christians, who endured unto the end, 
rind held fast the beginning of their confidence. He 
would not submit the truth of the doctrine, certainly 
believed by him, even to the judgment of an angel 
from heaven. In the christian race, he runs not as 
uncertainly ; and, in the christian warfare, fights not 
as beating in the air. 

While the soul that is unstable as water, becomes 
& ready prey to every temptation, and never can ex- 
cel in holiness or comfort ; the established christian 
is a lively image of the living God, who is stedfast for 
ever; ami with whom there is no variableness, nor 
shadow of turning. He is a disciple of Christ indeed; 
for he continues in his word, an ornament to the reli- 
gion which he pro r esses, and a bestower of gladness to 
the heart of every faithful minister, who can say, with 
the holy a;;c?t!e, now we live, if we stand fast in the 
Lord. But, O that blessed serenity of mind, now set- 
tled into a pleasing tranquility, as milk into a sweet 
cream, when allowed to stand still ! 

Go on, O happy soul ! resist the devil, stedfast in 
the faith. Thy prayers are powerful; thy reward is 
certain. And, at the last, you are presented holy and 
nnhlameable before him, it ye continue grounded and 
settled in faith, and be not moved away from the hope 
cf the cq; 



185 



ON ZEAL. 

THE zealous christian is one, who, from a fen- 
der regard to ihe honor of his God and Redeemer, 
burns with a holy anger against all doctrinal corrup- 
tions of" his truth, and practical violations of his law; 
and does what in him lies tor advancing his glory a- 
mong men, and for transmitting to latest posterity 
pure and incorrupted the holy religion wherein he ha& 
been taught. In times of abounding iniquity, he wax- 
es not cold, but glows the more intensely, as the pier- 
cing rage of winter imparts new vigor to the elements 
of fire. Though he very well knows the Almighty 
needs not his feeble help, being fully able to defend 
his own cause, and vindicate his injured rights ; yet. 
like thee, Q venerable Elijah, he i% jealous for the 
Lord of Hosts, when the children of Israel had thrown, 
down his altars, and fears the bitter curse of Meroz, 
should he not come forth to the help of the Lord; to 
the help of the Lord against the mighty. For, he re- 
members how, in the cause of his salvation, his gra- 
cious Redeemer was clad with zeal as with a cloak; 
he put on vengeance, and it covered him. 

He does not, like the scrupulous Pharisee, confine 
Itis whole regard to the lesser matters of ihe law ; 
while those of greater moment are forgot ; but still he 
highly values every the smallest truth; and had ra- 
ther that heaven and earth should pass away, than 
one jot of his word should perish. Many things which 
some account of as small punctilios, and trifling cir- 
cumstantials, he finds, upon a nearer inspection, to be 
worthy of contending forf as being more nearly rela- 
ted to the whole system, and present state of religion, 
than is generally imagined. Even those laws, where- 
by the government of christian societies is adjusted,, 
lie considers as necessary as the bark is to the tree, or 
the hedge to the vineyard. 

o v 2 




186 

It is not a blind and headstrong passion that in- 
fluences him, when he dissents from the way of the 
multitude, like them that had a zeal of God, but not 
according to knowledge; but being able to render a 
reason to every man that askcth. He may be compa- 
red to the bush that burned; it was sharp indeed, and 
prickly,- but in the midst ot light. Or, as the legal 
priests burned incense, and lighted the lamps together 
in the ancient tabernacle, so ought this holy flame ne- 
ver to be awakened, but when the lamp ot* knowledge 
is also lighted up. 

Let Saul, in his zeal for the Israelites, imbrue his 
hands in the blood of the Gibeonites ; let another of 
that name waste and persecute the church, being ex- 
ceedingly zealous of the traditions of the fathers; let 
bloody papists think they are doing God good service, 
when they consign over to the flames pretended here- 
tics ; blow up parliaments ; massacre whole nations of 
men ; and make the streets of populous cities to swim 
with human gore ; he has not so learned Christ. — It 
any such wrathful emotions arise in his heart, as 
would excite him to call for fire from heaven, even 
against the most atrocious sinner ; he recollects the 
needful caution of the meek and lowly Jesus, " ye 
know not what manner of spirit ye are of." Mercy 
and compassion is the oil that feeds this flame, which 
many waters cannot quench. If it consumes any, it is 
riot the persons of other men, but himself. 

lie affects not the zealous character for a cloak of 
eovetousness, like the crafty Demetrius of Ephesus ;■ 
nor for a mask of ambition, like Jehu, the proud and. 
furious captain: — nor that he may, with greater secre 
ey, wreak his resentment on those he hates, as if this* 
heavenly pace could prove a sanctuary to -malice and 
revenge* It is not the persons of the sinners he ab- 
hors; but the oins of the persons. And against these 
he fights; not so much by bitter invectives, and noisy 
exclamaticms, as silent tears, and secret prayers. He 
transgressors, and is grieved much for the certain; 
iniseHes they procure ts themselves; more,, for the 



187 

dishonor they reflect upon their Maker. His goit- 
rous godly sorrow is not confined to his own personal 
iniquities; his heart can bleed for a world that lieth 
in wickednes ; but still his zeal begins at home, like 
charity. He entertains no more favoring thoughts of 
any evil way, though his most beloved friends should 
be the abettors of it. But chiefly he keeps his own 
heart with all diligence ; and carefully suppresses 
those vices in his own soul, against which he declarer 
in other men. He remembers, that as the snuffers in 
the temple were pure gold ; so they who would be ad- 
vocates for pure and undented religion, ought to be 
pure themselves. And he fears to fall within the 
verge of that most cutting challenge - r " thou that 
teach est another, teachest thou not thyself ?" 

Though far from the indifference of a Gallio, in 
the matters of his God ; yet will he never speak wick- 
edly for him, nor have recourse to pious fraud for the 
promoting of his interest. As the stars in their cour- 
ses fought against Sisera ; so he, when striving against 
sin, is careful, in this holy War, to keep his rank, and 
never to step aside from that station that is allotted 
for him by his prudent General. _ 

Such is the constant frame, and such the habitual 
temper of his soul ; not resembling a transitory flash 
©f lightning, but a standing pillar of fire. Sometimes 
indeed he incurs the censures of men, as though he 
were righteous overmuch, and of a gloomy nature ; 
but God and conscience acquit him from the charge. 
In times of fearful judgments, and dangerous apostacy r 
he is ordinarily preserved, being marked with the seal 
©f the living God on the forehead. 



ON RELIGIOUS STRICTNESS. 

THE strict, christian is* a person who places not" 
Ms religion in a rigid censuring of others, nor in an 
eager attachment to the customs or opinions of a par- 



18& 

iieular party ; but is influenced in the whole of hi* 
conduct by an inflexible regard to the divine law, as 
the only rule of his life ; and by a care ('if 1 attention to 
the example of Jesus Christ, as the great pattern of 
his obedience. He reckons it not sufficient to distin- 
guish himself from the many that walk in the broad 
way, by entertaining better notions, and more exalted 
sentiments than they ; but his life is orthodox as hi* 
faith, and his conversation as his tongue. 

Be is afraid to engage in whatsoever course of 
action, without being first at all due pains to satisfy 
his conscience, that it is well pleasing unto God, or, 
at least, not prohibited in the law. But when he dis- 
cerns the stamp of God's authority on any precept ; 
though the world should countermand, he knows his 
own master, and obeys God rather than man. 

It is true, he abhors those foolish and cruel ma- 
cerations of the body, which some superstitious bigots 
have mistaken for true mortification ; for he knows, 
that his body, being a temple of the Holy Ghost, de- 
serves to be honored, by keeping it in repair : and, 
being the servant of his soul, should be mercifully 
used, as the good man is merciful to his very beast. — 
But, at the same time, he takes care not to pamper 
the flesh too much, and make provision for its lusts, 
under the specious pretence of using his christian li- 
berty. For, though he stands fast in this liberty, and 
will not be brought into bondage by any, he chooses 
not to be walking always upon its utmost verge or 
border. 

Some things that are in themselves lawful, he 
judges not expedient, on account of the attending cir- 
cumstances ; and he abstains from them accordingly. 
The regard he bears to the law of his God, is uni- 
form, equal, and constant. He is no less conscien- 
tious in performing relative duties, than in practising 
those that are immediately religious. Be abhors their 
' i cty, who ma'ke the»dirine commands to clash, 
and break the one table of the law against the other; 
who, under the pretence of devotion, forget natural 



189 

affection ; as if one should devote unto sacred uses 
what is necessary for supporting the life of his nearest 
relations, and say, " it is a gift by whatsoever thou 
mightst have been profited by me." 

Though he is strict in observing every the least 
commandment, it is not that he may indulge himself 
in neglecting the weightier matters of the law ; but 
rather to demonstrate unto all beholders, that if the 
authority of the great Lawgiver is to be so much re* 
snected, even in the smallest things, much more in 
those weightier and important matters, that are the 
very soul of religion. 

He equally detests the spurious strictness of the 
pharisee, which was only partial and hypocritical ; 
and the profane looseness of the multitude, who walk 
at random, and seem to think, that it is scarce possi- 
ble to go wrong in the way that leadeth unto life. 

He neither shuns nor courts the approbation of 
the world, and studies rather not to deserve than to 
avoid their reproaches. His heart being reconciled 
nnto the spirituality and holiness of the law, his li- 
berty and freedom is not in the least impaired, by the 
strict rules he has imposed upon himself ; he walks 
at liberty, because he seeks thy precepts, O God. 

Some there are who esteem him to be no better 
than a nice precise fool, and an affecter of singularity; 
but he endeavors, by joining'to his strictness, a sweet 
and obliging behavior, to confute this calumny ; and 
oftentimes he encr eases, like his Lord and Savior Je- 
sus Christ, in favor with God and man. He looks 
upon all his strictness as too little ; and coming not 
only exceeding short of what is required in the law, 
but of what others have arrived at ; and he renoun- 
ces it all in point of trust and confidence. It is not 
his own strictness, but his Savior's atonement on 
which he builds his hopes of a happy eternity. 

Go on, O happy soul! though thy companions 
should be few in the narrow way that leadeth unto 
everlasting life ; in a little thou shalt no more com- 
plain of being solitary ; for thou shalt come to Ujs 



190 

innumerable company of azigels, to the general assem- 
bly and church of the first; born, whose nWnies 
tvritfen in heaven, where the strictest christian shall 
receive the most glorious crown. For their shame, 
they snail be advanced to double honor ; and tor 
confusion, they shall rejoice in their eternal por- 
tion. 

It now remains to beg the reader's excuse for de- 
taining him so long from a perusal of the more impor- 
tant and interesting contents of the following sheets ; # 
stnd to express my ardent desire, that blessed by a 
gracious providence, they may gain the haven of pub- 
lic acceptance, and import these most valuable corn- 
modifies; pleasure which improves, and improvement 
which delights. 



OS THE RELIGIOUS WORSHIPPER. 

FIRST of all, he is careful that ihe worship he 
performs he of divine institution, and suited to the ge- 
nius of the gospel. He is not so much taken with 
gaudy ornaments and ' glittering ceremonies in any 
set or religious observances, as with the stamp of 
heaven's appointment. Though the commandments 
of men should be ever so plausible and dazzling to 
the eye, he can despise them as weak and hegg ir- 
ly elements, as worldly rudiments, as carnal ordi- 
nances. 

But though his worship should, as to form, boast 
of ever so much purity, he knows where there is a spi- 
ritual worship, there may be a carnal heart. The 
soul of his devotion lies, neither in the reverence of 



NOTE. 

* This csscty concluded the preface in the first edi- 
tion. 



191 

bodily demeanor, nor in the exercise of shining gifts ^ 
bu< i:i tl g of his mind, and the excitku 

grace into ction, by the influence of (he Ry?y Li best. 

The tended knee f espeaks the humiliation o his 
soul ; the exalted voice, indicates (he fervency of his 
mind ; the eleVated hand betokens the lining u of 
his affections. The request oi" his lips is the same 
thing with the desire of his heart. If his lips are 
burning-, his heart is also fervent. 

Duties he considers as the means of communion 
with God ; but he endeavors never to rest in them as 
the end. He neither worships God with a view to 
gain the applause of men by shewing his fine parts ; — 
to appease a resentful conscience hy some faint com- 
pliances with its impartial dictates; — to workout a 
righteousness whereby he might he justified before 
him ;— or, to encourage himself in the indulgence of 
It is lusts, because he has peace-offerings with him, or 
because he has paid his vows. But his flesh and heart 
cry out for the living God. 

The influences of the divine Spirit; these are the 
winds that blow upon his garden, and make the spicy 
odors of every divine grace to flow forth. These <;re 
the gales that urge him forward in every act of wor- 

; without whose kindly aid he might ply the oar 
of natural endeavors in vain. But the spirit helpeth 
his infirmities with groanings that cannot be uttered. 
Without his divine succors, what were he, but as the 
mighty Sampson, when shorn of his sacred locks, he 
became as another man ? Therefore is he tenderly 
eplicitous to cherish every motion of this beningn 
agent : and to avoid whatsoever course of action 
might quench this heavenly fire by which his sacri- 
fices are inflamed. 

It is true, he may, through the workings of in- 
bred corruption, and the influence of wicked spirits, 
be pestered with the intrusion of vain thoughts, even 
in his most solemn devotions. But if these heliish 
birds will alight upon, andpick his sacrifices ; he will, 
as Abraham drive them away. And though he should 



192 

not be able to acquit himself with much clearness of 
thought and elegancy of expression; vet he tmds a 
gracious acceptance with God, who understands the 
stammering tongue of his beloved children ; and i? 
more moved with their unutterable groans, than with 
the accurate addresses of the gitted professor ; from 
whom, as being destitute of divine grace, shall he ta- 
ken away even that which he seemed to have. The 
angel of the covenant ascends in the smoke o! all 
his offerings. Though he covets earnestly the best 
gifts, yet God has shewed unto him a more excellent 
way. 



ON HEARING THE WORD. 

ASK you, why faith should come by hearing ?— 
why it should be the ministration of the Spirit ? why 
he should fall on them that hear the word ? why saints 
should be comforted, and sinners converted, by the 
foolishness of preaching ? The same gracious ap- 
pointment by which the clouds of heaven drop down 
fatness from above, at the return of spring, hath or- 
dained that his doctrine shall drop as the rain, and his 
speech distil as the dew. Suffice it for us to know, 

that cfhis own will begat he us by the rv or d of truth. 

He who teaches the tender babe to hanker after the 
mother's breast, and renders the milk more nourish- 
ing, when sucked from that living fountain, than when 
presented in a cup ; also instructs the infant chris- 
tian to desire, as a new-born babe, the sincere milk of 
the word, and makes him grow thereby. Let us ra- 
ther attend to the character of him who is not a for- 
getful hearer, but a doer of the word. 

First of all, he looks not on this divine ordinance 
as a mere amusement, or as an expedient to pass away 
a little time. He repairs not to the rrlace of the holy, 
merely to see, and he s^en : — that his curiosity may 
be gratified with the novelty of the matter : — that his 



193 

rars may be tickled with the melody of the voice :— 
that his passions may be touched hy the elegancy of 
the address : — that his mouth may be filled with some 
rnattef of discourse :-that an angry conscience may be 
pacified ; or that an empty name may be maintained ; 
but that his graces may be quickened, his lusts may be 
mortified, his temptations resisted, his doubts resolv- 
ed, his discouragements dispelled, his understanding 
m:.y he stored with t rut lis, his will with holy resolu- 
tions, his affections with heavenly emotions. In short, 
that he may hear what God the Lord will say; :nd 
that he may profess the dependence he has on him 
for the knowledge of his will, and instruction in the 
way of life. 

For, though he is only to hear the voice of a man 
of like passions with himself, he considers him as the 
mouth of the living God speaking unto him from hea- 
ven. Thou act going to hear, O my soul, not the 
word spoken by an angel from the blessed abodes. 
whose tongue is tipt with heavenly eloquence ; — not 
the word of a king, wherewith there is no power com- 
manding deep respect from all that hear; but the voice 
of him who is terrible to the kings of the earth, and 
angels bend before him with loWly reverence. In- 
stead of diminishing his respect to the heavenly mes- 
sage, because delivered by a mortal tongue, it fire his 
gratitude to the condescending Deity, who once spoke 
to the Jews in the likeness of sinful flesh, when the 
Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us; and now 
he speaks unto us by flesh, having received gifts for 
men, that his terror may not make us afraid. 

How can he but be all attention, when so great 
is the majesty of the speaker ? — so vast the impor- 
tance of the thing spoken ? No vain speculation ; no 
idle tale; no cunningly devised fable; but truths 
which angels pry into, and wherein he is most deeply 
interested ; even that word which God has magnified 
above all his name. 

Having, by fervent prayer, and serious medita- 
tion, composed his wandering thoughts, allayed his 



194 

i 

passions, and hashed his worldly cares, he receives, 
with frieekness, the ingrafted word. To the be iring 
of the ear, he joins the hearing of faith. Wisdom en- 
ters into his heart, and knowledge is pleasant unto his 
soul. If the reproofs of the word are applicable unto 
himself, he does not apply (hem to his neighbor, nor 
hate him that reproveth in the gate. He adores that 
goodness that ceaseth not to be a repnr/er, but that 
makes the word to be quick and powerful, sharper 
than any two-edged -sword, and a discerner of the 
thoughts and intents of the heart. He obeys the 
voice, and receives correction. If the thunders o, 
nai sound their trumpet, his belly trembles, and rot- 
tenness enters into his hones. Knowing these terrors 
of the Lord, he is persuaded to fly from the wrath to 
come. Blessed soul! he is not offended' 'with the 
strictness of the precepts ; he turns not from the holy 
commandment, though it should encroach unon his 
lusts, or worldly interests, and cost him a right hand, 
or a right eye. He esteems no commandment little, 
on which the authority of the great God is instanced : 
©r difficult i when it comes from him who gives power 
to the saint. But chiefly, he mixes faith with all 
those £reat and previous promises which in Christ are 
yea and amen, and by which he is made a partaker of 
the divine nature. These, he knows, it is his duty to 
believe* as well as to reverence the reproofs, to obey 
the precepts, or tremble at the inreatenihgs. 

W&at shall we say more ? "What he hears, he 
understands; what he understands; he remembers; 
What he remembers, he loves; what he loves, he be- 
lieves; and what he believes, he practises. His life 
is a continual sermon. And not being a forgetful 
lie rer, ut a doer of the word, he shall be blessed in 
his deed. 



195 



ON MEDITATION. 

[T is the intense £xing of the thought on some 
heavenly subject, till either the mind i$ informed, or 
the heart affected. It may he compared to the brui- 

of sweet spices, which makes them spread abroad 

their odor; or to the chewing of our natural food, 

which makes it fit for being digested into nourishment. 

is that soul, who, being renewed in the 

: of his mind, can retire into himself, from the 

y of the world, and from the storm of passion, to 
converse with God and Christ, and things above, and 
find that solitude is sometimes the best society ; — who, 
with his own thoughts, can cheer the darkness of the 
lit, and soothe the labors of the day. While he 
h musing, the f?re of holy love bur::::, ¥tmUy disap- 
pears* and holiness advances. 

Ask you the themes on which he dwells ? Nei- 
ther on things that are too high for him, nor thii 
unprofitable and vain. Instead of weaving spiders' 
webs, or hatching cockatrice eggs, like the vile per- 
son, who will meditate villany, and his heart will pre- 
vent the night- watches, to meditate on thy statutes*, 
O Go:. When he remera ! ers thee upon jiis bed, and 
meditates on thee in the night-watches, he will rejoice 
under the shadow of thy wings; his soul will follow 
hard after thee, and thy right hand will sustain him. 
His meditation of thee shall be sweet, both when the 
morning shines, and the evening draws her curtain 
over the world. How great shall be his peace ! how 
great his safely ! and how unspeakable his joy ! 

Or, shall thy person, and thy mediation, O ex- 
alted Redeemer! what thou art, what thou hast, and 

t thou hast done or suffered, employ his thoughts ? 
When his heart shall indite a good matter concerning 
thee, his soul shall be filled with marrow and fatn 

:e on the agonies of thy cross, and 
mourn for thee whom he has pierced ; the glories of 



196 

thy present state, and rejoice in thy highness. Thou 

send thy holy Spirit to take ihy own things, hikI 
shew {hem unto him, that he need not betake himself 
to unchristian aids, of bringing thy dying love to 
his remembrance. Though crucifixes and pictures 
should not meet his eye at every turning of the street, 
yet will he naturally think of thee, the author of his 
life, fend centre of his happiness. 

Often times he will take a trip into the world of 
spirits, and come back ail immortal* His thoughts 
will range in the eternal regions: contemplate the 
happiness of the heavenly state, which he will com- 
pare with the restless agonies of unquenchable fire; 
and beholding this glory of the Lord, he will acquire 
a blessed meetness for, and longing after its enjoy- 
ment; — will think but lightly of his transitory afriie- 
tion ; — will be roused into a holy ardor, to be a £61- 
iSvfSSr^l • hem who inherit the promises; — will com- 
miserate their mistaken smiles, who take up the tim- 
brel and harp, and rejoice at the sound of the organ. 
His faith will be strengthened, his hope invigorated, 
and though his outward man should perish, yet, for 
this cause, he will not faint. 

At other times he will indulge the thought of death ; 
— will consider his latter end; — will familiarize unto 
his thoughts the dismal solemnities of his dying bed, 
and s*\ r to the grave, " it is mine house." 

Shall I mention, in the next place, how he will 
regard (be doings of the Lord, and consider the opera- 
tions of his hand ; that he may know what the Most 
High is calling for, in a way of duty, by every merci- 
ful interposition of providence; and by every frown- 
ing dispensation ; and that, like a man of wisdom, he 
may hear his voice, and see his name. 

But we must not at ail forget, how he communes 
with his heart, how his spirit makes diligent search, 
how be considers himself, lest he he tempted ; and 
what is that sin which easily besets him. For thus 
he regards the avenues of temptation, because be 
knows what is the plague of his heart.— What shall 



197 

say more of him ? In the divine law, "he medi- 
tates day and night ; and sh.ili be like a tree planted 
by the river of water, that bringeth forth fruit in his 

ou. His leaf also shall not wither ; and whatsoe- 
ver he doth shall prosper." 



ON' SIXG2XG OF PSAIS&- 

WHERE can grave, sweet melody be applied, 
with such propriety, as to the sacred subjects of reli- 
gion ? By this, devotion is invigorated, joy is heigh- 
tened into rapture, divine truths are better impressed 
upon the heart, and fixed in the memory. Distem- 
pered passions are allayed, and heavenly affections are 
inspired. Even as the hand of the Lord was upon the 
prophet, when he called for a minstrel, and the evil 
spirit departed from the king of Israel, while David 
touched, with his skilful hand, the sweet resounding 
harp. From the most remote ages, and from the most 
remote places of the world, have we heard songs, even 
glorv to the righteous. 

To this heavenly mirth the christian is inspired. 
not hy the fumes of wine, wherein is excess ; but be- 
ing filled with the Spirit, he speaks to himself in 
psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs ; singing and ma- 
king melody in his heart unto thee. He makes the 
voice of his praise to be heard, not only in the public? 
essemhl/, bat in his private dwelling. 

Though there are peculiar seasons of this duty. 
when it is more remarkably incumbent : yet he see» 
abundant reason to bless»the Lord at all times, and to 
have his praise continually flowing from his lips. — 
Even in the night of his distress, eft times he has a. 
song, when all joy would seem to be darkened, when 
his harp would seem to be turned into mourning, and 
his organ into the voice of them that weep. Thus 
Paul, with Silas, sung at the dead hour of midnigkt, 
though their hacks were colored with ignomin* 
&oarges, and their feet made fast in the stocks 



193 

Though he despises not the melody of the voice, 
yet, by itself alone, he accounts it no more but hot 
exercise, that profits little. Therefore, he uses it only 
in a subserviency to his devotion; and rests not in it 
as his ultimate end. What he chiefly attends unto, 
is, that he may sing praises with understanding, and 
with grace. 

His praising is his reasonable service. And 
though the subject snog should not exactly suit his 
own case : though it should be — some dreadful intpre- 
oaiion, littered by the spirit of prophecy; — some high 
attainment, to which he is not arrived; — some deep 
distress, which himself is unacquainted with : — yet, 
by ejaculatory prayers, and serious meditation, he can 
digest even lliese seemingly foreign subjects into the 
nourishment of his soul, and sing of them to the praise 
and glory of God. 

As far as in him lies,, he wants to have these af- 
fections set a working, and these graces educed into 
exercise, that are naturally required by the theme of 
which he sings : be they holy joy, fervent love, burn- 
ing gratitude., reverential Tear, or godly sorrow. — But 
chiefly the grace of faith must nevtr fail to be acted, 
in. this as in other parts of worship. Christ is ihe 
musician, to whom his songs are inscribed.— 
Christ Is his al'J&r, by which he oilers up his sacrifice 






rate the fulness 
anil variety of Ibni IKUe bible, composed by the He- 
brew k|n - of Ga: 
he fit * What work sv. 
he to pi moral du* 
,.\ what efrri : e, is not here recommended ? 
is not : inted I To what 
r of the soul may we not find here a sovereign 
remedy ? Here the secure may find what is proper 
ling, the disconsolate for reviving, the 
• directing, orting,. to 
iv id. 



199 

What mortal pen can equal the sublimity of hi# 
thoughts, the liveliness oi his metaphors, the majesty 
lis descriptions ? Which of his psalms may not say, 
" I am tearfully and wonderfully made ?" — When he 
displays the glory of the God of Israel, thousands of 
mighty angels stand before him ; " God is in the midst 
of them, as in mount Sinai." Now he Hies on the 
wings of the wind, and rides on flaming cherubim.— 
His lightnings lighten the world. The earth trembles 
at his approach. The mo;: melt as the snow 

that covers them. The foundaBbns of the world are 
discovered. The fioods drive back their tides. The 
mountains skip like rams. 

Now he sets him on a throne, of which justice 
and judgment are the foundation : and mercy accom* 
panied with truth, go before his face. Now he de- 
scribes the fierceness of his anger ; and rains down 
snares, hre, brimstone, and an horrible tempest. I 
ting his eye through distant ages, he brings down the 
%Son of God to dwell in clay; a hodj' is prepared him. 
The Jews are tilled with rage against the Lord's 
anointed. Re hears his melancholy groans. Sees bis 
heart melting like Wax in the midst of his bowel-.— 
But he leaves not his soul in hell. Messias lives, 
ascends on high, and leads captivity captive. Re- 
joice, ye worlds of blessedness. Be lifted up, ye 
everlasting doors, and the King of glory shall come 
in. 



ON PRAYER. 

LET prayer, the most honorable, the most 
pier* and the 

be next our theme. In this we converse with 

mhid, and contract a blessed fami with 

or is better than life, 
rown is \vor; h. By th 

moiv- ghts,, than all the pleasures, of 



206 

can boast, than ail the vanities oF the world can he? 
stow. By thin every mercy is sanctified, every afflic- 
tion is alleviated, every holy disposition is invigora- 
ted, every corrupt affection is weakened, and every 
temptation is resisted. 

Now, prayer, in the most general and abstracted 
notion of that word, may he described : The speech 
of the rational creature unto God, whether conceived 
in the heart, or uttered by the mouth ; whereby we 
either celebrate hisLamiahle perfections, confess our 
own defects, impiormiis divine power for the mercies 
we want, or thank him for the blessings we have re- 
ceived. 

But let us more particularly attend unto his cha- 
racter, of whom it may be said, behold he pr&yeth. And, 
first of all, detesting their abominable idolatries, who 
direct their religious addresses, either to these imagi- 
nary beings that never, perhaps, did so much as exist ; 
or those beings which indeed have a real existence, 
but no divinity, seeing they are all the creatures of - 
God, and many of them the works of men's hands. — 
God and God alone, is the object of his adoration ; 
who only can hear, who only can judge, who only 
ean answer the prayers that are made ; for his knowl- 
edge is infallible, for his equity is inflexible, for his 
power is irresistible. " O thou that nearest grayer, 
unto thee shall all flesh come. 5 ' Nor shall any rotten 
^distinction, devised by the an tic-Kris tian church, ever 
induce me to entertain a favorable thought of that 
palpable violation of the law, who hast expressly com- 
manded in thy word, " thou shalt worship the Lord 
thy God, and him only shalt thou fear." 

But how shall he, whose character is a miserable 
sin-ier, dare to approach that tremendous Majesty, in 
whose presence the foolish sh:i5i not stand, who hears 

not sinners, who abhors the workers of iniquity ? 

The mediation of fesus Christ is the sole, is the hap- 
py solution of this knot. To his care he directs all 

elitions, me he mentions in faith and in 

nghteoksiiess ; aiiil Fmds a gracious aeeepfimce. If* 



201 

as we are informed in history, the king Admetus was 
reconciled to Themistocles, when the latter taking 
the young prince in his arms, presented him to the 
father ; shall not much more a gracious God shew fa- 
vor, complacency, and love unto sinners, who, though 
unworthy in themselves, yet bring the dearly beloved 
Son of God in the arms of their faith, saying, " See, 
O God, our shield, and look upon the face of thine 
anointed !" By him the humble supplicant, draws 
near to God, of whom it is said, " this is my beloved 
Son, iii whom I am well pleased." 

As in the sacred story the angel of Manoali as- 
cended in the smoke of his offering; so Christ as- 
cends in the incense of all his prayers, and brings* 
them near the throne of his heavenly Father. By 
him he has access with confidence. Towards him he 
bends his eye in all his supplications ; even as the 
ancient Jews never did pray, hut with their faces to- 
wards the holy temple at Jerusalem, though at the 
greatest distance from them. 

The wtfrd of God is the only rule by which he 
regulates his devotions, both as to the time, the place, 
the matter, the manner. By this he is taught, that as 
no time is unfit, so no place is improper for this honora- 
ble* duty. Though there are stated times of public 
and private devotion, which he cheerfully observes ; 
and though it is the joy of his soul to join with his fel- 
low-worshippers in places that are appointed for the 
assembling of the church ; yet he can never think 
that prayers which are made in canonical hours or 
consecrated places, are of greater efficacy on that ac- 
count. The labors of the day he begins w T tth prayer, 
he mixe3 with prayer, he finishes with prayer. — Be is 
more anxious to get a praying heart, than to find a 
place; for he remembers how Jeremiah could pray in 
the dungeon, Daniel in the den of lions, Jonah in the 
bel!j r of the fish, Eezekiah upon his bed, Nehemiah in 
the king's presence, Peter on the house top, Paul on 
the shore, and Christ in the garden. — He considers 
that Christ is an omnipresent temple ; and therefore 
lifts up holy bauds in every place, 



202 

By the same up$rring rule he is directed to have 
a snecial c are, thai the matter of his addresses be 
agreeable to the divine n nil will. The bodily 

gesture he uses, is from irreverence on the one hand, 
and from superstition on the oiker. Eowing, kneeling, 
bodily prostration, elevatipn of the hands and eyes, 
uncovering of the head, are the outward expressions 
of his inward reverence, But ludicrous and antic 
ceremonies, Pharisaical disguisings of the face, he 
avoids as tending to beget a contempt of religion in 
the minds of spectators, instead of imprinting a reve- 
rence. The words of his mouth are neither too Sow 
and familiar on the one hand, nor too high and affect- 
ing on the other : far less are they unintelligible, 
pronounced in an unknown tongue. For, as the 
priests offered incense when the lamps were lighted ; 
so, when he prays in the spirit, he prays with the un- 
derstanding also. The words which the Holy Ghost 
teaches, he prefers above all others. Re uses not 
Tain repetitions, as though much speaking were the 
thing that recommends him to the Almighty. A mul- 
titude of words, he knows very well, is not that im- 
portunity which availeth much in the fervent prayer 
of the righteous. For, though the gesture of the '' 
should be ever so decent, and the words of the mdfeth 
ever so well chosen, he knows very well, that still one 
thing is lacking, and indeed the principal thing, the 
dispositioh of the heart, which if it is not right with 
God., the most lowly gestures, and the most elegant 
ey ressions, are )mt smoke in his nostrils, and a lire 
that burnetii all the day. 



ON MOURNING OR FASTING. 

LAUGH, ye profane, and prove your misery by 
yom What though games and revelry s! 

irs away, and your whole life should 
seem but one continued festivity ? MiseraLi e< .j 



203 

lures ! while you dance on the brink of a tremendous 
precipice, in a moment you descend into the grave ; 
ami drop into that place, where all joy is darkened* 
and horrors reign in everlasting triumph. Commend 
me to that awful joy that dwells with him that is poor 
and igf a contrite spirit. 

A person of this holy temper is not a stranger to 
natural cheerfulness ; far less to spiritual joy. But 
he endeavors to repress that vain and frothy mirth* 
which, instead of doing good as a medicine, will eat 
as doth a canker. Fie waters with his tears even the 
pardon of his sins, and cannot think on the transgres- 
sions of his past life, withe/. :t real emotions of grief. — 
For, though they will never subject him to condemna- 
tion from God, tor this vevy reason he condemns him- 
self the more He is often heard, like Ephraim, be- 
moaning himself, and mourning like a dove in the 
valley, Tor the sad prevalence of the body of sin and 
death. 

lie can drop a generous tear for the miseries of 
his fellowcrea tares, and remembers them that are in 
bonds as bound with them. He cannot but he grieved 
with transgressors ; cannot but he vexed with the fil- 
thy conversation of the wicked ; cannot but sigh and 
cry for all the abominations that are committed in the 
land of his nativity. He satisfies not himself with 
open censures of public evils, which may proceed 
from pride and malice ; but weens for them, like Jere- 
miah, in a secret place; and thus he proves his real 
charity ; his sincere regard to the divine honor ; and 
disinterested benevolence to men. Moreover that he 
delivers his own soul from the guilt of those sins for 
which he mourns. — If the church of God is involved in 
great distress : if she is under persecution; or, what is 
infinitely worse, if the bulk of her sons and daughters 
are laboring under a lamentable decay as to the pow- 
er of godliness ; if her pastors are brutish, if her ordi- 
nances are barren ; if her doctrine is corrupted ; if 
her discipline is perverted; if her government is neg- 
lected ; if her unity is broken ; then is he sorrowful 



201 

for the solemn assembly ; he weeps when he remeifr 
tiers Zion ; like Nehemiah, who was the king's cup- 
bearer; and like you, ye captives of Babylon, when 
ye hanged your harps upon the willtfws. 

He fellows for his pattern the great apostle of 
the Gentiles, who served the Lord with many tears, 
warning every man ; who had continual sorrow in his 
heart for his brethren according to the flesh ; and could 
siot without weeping, so much as mention the enemies 
of the cross of Christ. But chiefly he looks on him 
iv horn he has pierced, and mourns for thee, O suffering 
Redeemer ! Surely thou hast borne our gpefi, and 
carried our sorrows. Wo have often heard of thy 
tears, but never of thy laughter. 

O greatly wise, whose heart is in the house of 
mourning ! strangers indeed they are to loud and jo- 
vial mirth, and to the drunkard's noisy song; but not 
unto the smile at heart, and calm sunshine of the 
mind. For them Christ is anointed to preach glad ti- 
dings ; to give them the oil of joy for mourning, and 

the garments of praise for the spirit of heaviness. ■ 

With them the holy One will deign to dwell, before 
all palaces and temples. Even now he keeps a bottle 
for their tears, and is mindful of them, as they were 
written in a book. A time approaches, when, with 
his own kindly hand, he will wipe them forever from 
their eyes ; and they who have gone forth weepings 
bearing precious seed, shall bring back their sheaves 
with rejoicing-, 



On the sacrament of the supper. 

IT was in that fatal night, when the accursed 
traitor had resolved, with calm, deliberate malice, up- 
on the most Unworthy terms, to betray his Lord <md 
Master into the hands of sinners. Ah ! cursed lust 
of gold, to what enormous crimes dost thou push on 
the human race! O heart impenetrably hard, which 



20j 

was not softened by all the endearing speeches and 
deportment oj the meek and dying Savior ! — The ru- 
lers of the Jews were mei in close cabal ; and thirst- 
ing for the blood of the innocent Lamb of God, who 
takes away the sin of the world ; they concerted 
measures Tor apprehending him, like a notorious dis- 
turber Gt* the peace, and troublesome pest of society. 
Their dark designs were not unknown to the wis*? 
Redeemer, whose penetrating eye beheld tlwm through 
the deepest shades. Full well he knew the success 
their enterprise was met with, according to the plan 
laid down in the eternal council of the skies. Ke was 
not unapprised of tne inglorious and agonizing deaih 
which was immediately before him ; nor with the still 

more dismal conflict with angry Omnipotence. 

Gethseniane can tell how he, the heavenly vine, was 
squeezed in the wine-press of the wrath of God, till 
from his opened pores, even in the cold night, and on 
the cool ground* there issued forth great drops of 
bloody sweat. — Under all these direful apprehensions, 
lie enjoyed a calm serenity of mijad, and mixed fami- 
liar discourse with his disciples. at the last passover- 
S'lpper. If the last words, and dying actions of our 
frieu r regard ; the last concluding 

scene of our Redeemer's li.e is ten thousand times 
more worthy our attention. It was in these precious 
moments, he, as the king of Israel, instituted the eom- 
memmorating ordiuance of the supper. — No more, ye 
true Israel of God, shall ye practise the bloody rites, 
which I commanded Moses, in memory of your deli- 
verance from the bondage of Pharaoh. Now, that my 
blood is as good as shed; and I, who am the true pass* 
on the brink of being sacrificed for you ; 
be it enacted, that, in all succeeding generations, the 
of bread and wine be my only memo- 
Had th's ordinance been of a triMing nature, a 
terof indifferency, anil hut short pf duration, who 
can 3, that a person of such con- 

sum, doro. would have employed those valua* 



206 

Ue hours, in giving any injunctions about it to the 
dejected apostles ? The holy evangelists record it ; 
and the chosen vessel to bear God's name unto the 
Gentiles, adds his confirmation ; " for I have recei- 
ved," says he, " from the Lord, that which I also de- 
livered unto you, that in the same night wherein he 
Was betrayed, he appointed this expressive ordinance 
to be perpetuated in the church." 

Lo ! he takes the bread, which was before him 
on the table ; bread, which is the staff of life ; bread, 
which strengthened the heart. He blessed it ; not 
for a natural use, as ordinary bread is sanctified by 
prayer for common purposes ; but he blessed it for 
extraordinary purposes, and supernatural ends. As 
*nan, he craved ; as God, he bestowed the blessing. — 
He breaks it ; he gives it into the hands of the apos- 
tles. Take with your fingers, eat with your mouths, 
lie says, this consecrated bread. For this, and not 
Ihe roasted flesh of the passover-lamb, is, by my own 
appointment, the sign and symbol of my body, broken 
by the stroke -of justice in your law, room, and place. 
—Supper being ended, and the wine poured out to 
iiis hand, he takes tire cup, he blesses it, he gives it 
to his disciples. The wine which is contained in 
this cup of blessing which I give you, is an emblem 
of my blood 5 by which, not the Old, but the New 
•Testament, is confirmed ; of my blood, which is now 
^ibout to be shed ; not in typical sacrifices, but in my 
real crucifixion. Shed, not for the remission of cere- 
monial guilt unto a few Israelites ; but for the remis- 
sion of the numerous sins against the moral law, both 
unto Jews and Gentiles. 

Ye that are the lovers of Christ in sincerity, re- 
verence his dying command, who said, do this in re- 
membrance of me. Had he left us in charge to do 
some great thing, to practise some burdensome rite, 
to observe some unintelligible ceremony, whose mea- 
ning was not easy to take up ; we ought to have been 
all submission. How much more, when he only bids 
ent the consecrated bread, and drink the consecrated 
cup, &s axuenaorial ofjbim to all generation;?. 



207 

Great is your privilege ! exalted is your honor i 
who eat bread in the kingdom of God, and are worthy 
partakers in this mysterious feast. Here Christ is 
clearly crucified before you ; and you taste that the 
Lord is gracious. Let the deluded followers*- of the 
Antichrist of Rome, fall down to their breaden deity, 
and fondly dream of swallowing the real flesh of the 
Redeemer; ye have not so learned Christ; for ye 
know, that the flesh profiteth nothing. Monstrous 
absurdity ! unprofitable and senseless vanity ! the be^ 
lief whereof none can profess, who renounces not all 
his sense, and bids not adieu to reasqn, without being, 
guilty of the grossest hypocrisy. Or if any can be- 
lieve for true such a glaring lie, let us tremble at the* 
strong delusion. 

No wonder the adversary, who sits in the temple 
of God, and exalts himself above all that is called by 
that tremendous name, should fearfully disfigure this* 
holy institution, by his cursed abominations. No won- 
der, that, in numerous instances, they are guilty of 
sacrilegious mangling ; and, in numerous instances, 
of presumptuous and horrible adding to this important 
ordinance of the supper. For here, as in a medal, 
there are engraven in miniature the characters of dy- 
ing love ; and in the consciencious discharge of this 
commanded duty, the soul is satisfied as with marrow 
and fatness. 

Full oft the true christian can tell, how, in this 
holy supper, his diseases are cured, his desires are sa- 
tisfied, and his discouragements converted into exul- 
tations : whilst he feeds, not on bare and empty sym- 
bols, obvious to the corporeal touch ; but on the hid- 
den manna, signified by external elements, and obvi- 
ous to faith alone. What wonder, his body and his 
blood afford such heart-felt satisfaction to the believer 
in the sacrament : when even the heart of God was 
infinitely delighted therewith, w r hile on the cross he 
offered himself through the eternal Spirit t This is 
the true bread, with which the angels' food may not 
«oinpare« This the true wine which rejoiceth the 



208 

t of man ; and eren make3 glad the heart of $ocL 

°o blooming in spiritual health, this niakes you 

grow ; or if you languish under woful decays, this will 

tjfe your souls again. At this banquet of wine, 

Hie king will give commandment," to put to death the 

wicked Hainan of this and that corruption. Yea, 

fet is tfiy petition ?" will he say, " and what is 

thy request ? it shall be granted unto the whole of the 

Ungdom." 

Blessed be that bleeding love, that instituted 
these holy rites, for the remembrance of itself. But 
cursed Be that impious superstition, which, not con- 
tent with the plainness and simplicity of the original 
eommandment, goes about to refine the ordinance, and 
irick it up in robes of human ceremonies. Glory to 
God, for that happy providence which ordered our lot 
in these reformed lands ; where we have open access 
to worship God, in his own comely order. The mass ; 
an unmeaning word, an unscriptural name, worthy to 
be used ibr sueii an antiscriptural abomination ; the 
ma 33 is now banished from our *high favored island, 
with all its magical rites, and base idolatries. Blessed 
be .God'for his mercy ! 

Vain man would be wise, though born a fool, 
even like the colt of the wild ass. In no instance 
have the children of men bewrayed their ignorance 
and folly more than this, attempting to improve and 
amend the ordinances of heaven, with their own puny 
inventions^ The plainness of the elements, and the 
difcify of the actions, have given them offence : 
and therefore they Will deck the simple ordinances 
tidy pompous rites.* Why are they not offend- 
ed also at the inglorious cross ? why not disclaim the 

y Savior also; who made no splendid appearance 

' ys of his flesh, but wore the humble garb of 

? As the carnal Jews would not receive a 

mean despised Savior, but wanted a Messias that 

should be distinguished with worldly grandeur.; so 

ians will have carnal ordinances, and a 

worldly sanctuary, or they 6aa see no glory in them. 



209 

^But those who are endued with (he spirit of wisdom 
and illumination, behold a glory in the naked ordinance, 
which they search for in vain in all the solemn fop- 
peries of man's invention. It was not the privilege 
of every one who conversed with the incarnate Redee- 
mer to behold his glory, as the glory of the only be- 
gotten .of the Father. Nor can every one discern, ia 

the sacramental symbols, the body of the Lord. 

" Verily thou art a God that hidest thyself, O God of 
Israel the Savior.'' It. is only they, the desire of 
whose soul is towards thee, and towards the remem- 
brance of thy name, who shal^see thy power and thy 
glory in the same sanctuary. 



On the divine institution of the sahbaih-daif*_ 

NOW had six days finished their rounds ; the 
freavens, and the earth, and ail their host, had under- 
went the last retouches of their Creator's hand. He,. 
from his high and holy place, reviewing, with delight* 
his recent works as yet unstained by sin, pronounced 
(hem all very good. " And he rested on the seventh 
day from all his work which he had made. And God 
blessed the seventh day, and sanctified it ; because 
that in it he rested from all his work which he 
had created and made." How he blessed it ? how he 
sanctified it ? To be sure the sabbath was made for 
man, as the Lord of the sabbath tells us. He blessed 
it ; he sanctified it ; because he ordained, that every 
seventh day should be employed, by his newly-formed 
creature, in holy exercises, Was it not then, that the; 
morning stars did sing together, and all the angel-sons 
of God shouted for joy ? 

But soon, ah ! soon was the harmony interrupted. 
Man, being in honor, did not abide. Full soon the 
foul impostor found means to involve, in his apostacy, 
Our wretched race. Here if mercy had not .interposed,, 
ifae sabbath would have been for ever at an end- For 

f* Z 



2W 

ho, whose justice is inflexibly severe, would never 
have consented to accept of any religious homage 
from his fallen rebellious creature. But having from 
eternity proposed to restore us again to his love, favor, 
and image, by the mediation of his Son Jesus Christ f 
lie comes, and preaches peace to our trembling first 
parenis> 

Who can suspect, that the sabbath should be now 
superceded yato him ? that such a holy institution 
should he discontinued ; and its observance neglected 
by Adam £irA his believing seed ? Surely this law 
was not first given by Moses ? Is it not evident, that 
great lawgiver speaks of it as a thing in use before the 
giving of the law ? The glorious Jehovah had not 
yet uttered all these words from amidst the thunders 
of Sinai ; yet even then the manna was miraculously 
•restrained on the seventh day, and what they gathered 
the day before, miraculously preserved from putrefac- 
tion. " And it came to pass, that there went out 
gome of the. people on the seventh day to gather, and 
they found none. And the Lord said unto Moses, 
iiow long refuse ye to keep my commandments, and 
my laws ? see for that the Lord hath given you the 
sabbath, therefore he giveth you on the sixth day the 
bread of two days. Abide ye every man in his 

To what original shall we trace up the custom* 
which universally obtained among all nations, the R<> 
man and Greek? Can any natural reason be assigned 
for it, like what may be assigned for the division of 
time into months and years? Can we reasonably 
suppose they would copy it from the despised nation 
of Jews? .Is it not more than probable, that it was aa 
ancient tradition, conveyed from the first man, and 
preserved among his apostate race, when its true de- 
sign was forgotten ? 

y we not then more than presume, that the or- 
dinance of the sabbath was an eminent part of the re* 
liojan even of the patriarchal aire? aj 
this tUy a very ancient sacred wiiu is us ? the 



211 % 

sons of God cams for to present, themselves before 
him ? 

But now God plants his sanctuary among the pe- 
culiar people of the Jews. How great a part this was 
of their national religion, is witnessed both in their 
law, their prophets, and in the history of their church. 

Let us descend to the days of the Messiah ; who 
indeed has abolished the ceremonial law, but has not 
made the ordinance of the weekly sabbath to cease. 
Why did you reproach him, O malicious Pharisees, as 
though he had been a sabbath breaker, who indeed 
was Lord of the sabbath day ? On the sabbath day 
he honored the synagogue worship with his presence ; 
and speaks of it as an ordinance which he was to per- 
petuate in his church after his resurrection : " Pray, 
(says he, to his disciples,) that your flight be not in the 
winter, nor on the sabbath day." 

It is true, indeed, we that are christians, do net 
observe unto the Lord the seventh, but the first day o£ 
the week ; but we observe one day in seven, which is 
the substance of the commandment. It* the Lord of 
the sabbath shall establish this alteration by his au- 
thority, who can reasonably find fault ? 

If the day which he rose from the dead be the 
day winch is called the Lord' *s ; if on the first day of 
the week the primitive christians, even in apostolic 
times, did assemble for religious purposes, did hear the 
word, did celebrate the supper, did lay by them in 
store, as God had prospered them ; shall we not con- 
clude, that it is the will of God, that now the seventh 
day shall give place unto the first ?— Hereby js inti- 
mated to you, christians, that ye are not first to 
work, and then to rest, as under the ancient covenant 
of works; but that, in the order of the new covenant, 
your privilege precedes your duty, and your labor fol- 
lows after your rest. 

O thou queen of days, shall we not count thee 
our delight, and thou holy of the Lord honorable ? — « 
Be shut our heart to vain thoughts. Let no idle dis~ 
course flow from our tongue. Let us not only reifc 



212 

from service lafeor, but chiefly from all our sinful, an3, 
from all illegal works. Then shall this earthly rest 
be but a sweet prelude of that eternal sabbath they 
are now celebrating, who died in the Lord, and their 
works did follow them. 



On the benefit of ordinances. 

" A DAY in thy courts," says David, " is better 
than a thousand : I had rather be a door-keeper in the 
bouse of my God, than to dwell in the tents of wick- 
edness." Psal. Ixxxiv, 10. 

Never did any words proceed out of the mouth of 
the sweet singer of Israel, in which more of that noble 
character, the man after God's own heart, appeared. 
In this beautiful ode, where piety strives with ele- 
gance, the royal psalmist extols the happiness of those 
who have it in their power to attend upon the divine 
ordinances, the. whole psalm being an illustration of 
that rapturous introductory exclamation, " how amia- 
ble are thy tabernacles, O Lord God of hosts ?" He 
not only pronounces them truly blessed, who perpetu- 
ally resided in God's tabernacle, but also them who 
travelled thither, from the most distant parts of Judea, 
three times in -the. year ; though the weather was rai- 
ny, and the journey was tedious. By a strong poeti- 
cal flight, he seems to envy the little birds that nest 
ed near the altars of his King and God, from which 
himself was now debarred.. 

The subject of which he speaks in this text, is 
tbe courts and house of his God. By which we are 
fo understand, the tabernacle, or that magnificent tent 
lfrhich Moses reared up in the wilderness, and which, 
at this time, was the royal palace of the mighty king. 

Concerning this tabernacle, he affirms two very 
remarkable things. 

ct A day in thy courts is better than a thousand.'* 
£l divine seutence indeed I Th© celebrated Roauw*. 



213 

orator, long after, hit upon a thought that bears some 
Small resemblance to this : " One day, O philosophy 

it in obeying thy precepts, is to be far preferred to 
a sinning immortality." Here that saying is brought 
to pass, " one shall chase a thousand." A day in thy 
courts, that is spent in the exercises of devotion, and 
abstracted from the cares of the world, is not only 
equal to two days, or ten days, or twenty days, in any 
other place, but better than a thousand days ; or, if 
you will, a thousand years ; yea, a thousand ages.— 
And, though the happy person who enjoys hut one 
day of communion with God were to resign his breath 

[ very evening, and never more behold the outgo- 
ings of the morning, he need not retract his assertion 
as too hold and daring, when he considers, tha-t a day 
in the courts below, of fellowship with Cod, is a sure 
earnest of everlasting days in the courts above. 

" I had rather be a door-keeper in the house of 
my God, than dwell in the tents of wickedness. 5 ' Let 
us here observe how the psalmist, not content with 
approving the things that are excellent, m a specula- 
tive manner, makes a particular and practical choice 
of them for himself. The contrast between the house 
of God and the tents of wickedness, and betwixt be- 
ing a door-keeper in the one and an indweSler in the 
other, is abundantly striking. At this time the house 
of God was but a tent. He speaks as it were a palace. 
The houses of the wicked were, perhaps, sumptuous 
and magnificent palaces : he styles them but the tents 
of wickedness. Here it is natural to think how the 
divine presence can aggrandize a tent into a pal* 
hut if God be absent from a palace; if the voice o 
ot instead of prayer and praise, is heard in if ; if it is 
inhabited by doleful creatures, as all wicked men are, 
it is more despicable in the eye of God than the most 
ragged cottage can be in the eye of men. 



214 



On the excellency of Christianity. 

LIlT this man glory in his illustrious ancestor^ 
and think himself entitled to the honor and esteem of 
others, because descended of the worthy and renown- 
ed; yet, if he does not at., all inherit their supposed 
virtues, the nobility of his birth is the stain of his re- 
putation, and the sounding titles wherewith he may 
foe addressed, are in reality no better than a satire upon 
his manners. As it will not add any thing to the va- 
lue of lead or tin, these vulgar metals, that they are 
extracted from the precious silver ore ; so neither will 
.an high extraction impart a value to the worthless and 
vulgar character. 

Let another bless himself in a fancied superiority 
to others, because he enjoys the favor of the great, 
dwells in a fine house, heaps up silver as the dust* 
maintains a numerous retinue of servants, and loads 
his table with the most delicious food ; I never can 
think his character ennobled by all this pomp and 
wealth. He enjoys the favor of the great, but not thy 
loving kindness, O God, which is better than life. — 
He dwells under a magnificent roof, but he makes not 
the Most High his habitation. Tell me not of Ms 
heaps of silver and gold, for he is not rich in good 
works ; nor of his numerous servants, for himself is a 
slave to vile affections. He loads his table with luxu- 
rious food, but his soul feedeth on ashes, and husks 
lhat swine do eat. 

Nor has he a whit better title to fame and solid 
glory, who enjoys what is commonly styled populari- 
ty, and lives upon the tongues of multitudes. Alas ! 
how far are they from being competent judges of what 
is truly great and laudable ! What wise man values 
himself on the commendation of fools ? — But some- 
times they may be in the right. Be it so. Yet still 
how scanty the limits, how short the duration, in 
which Uiq fctge of the jgost reoowged must jiecessari- 



215 

ly be confined ! How many places, even in this oflfc 
glo 1 e, where the name of the most celebrated man om> 
earth has not been so much as heard of! How many 
heroes of antiquity, that kept the world awake witk 
noise and lustre, whose names and actions are forgot, 
as though they had not been ! Where now are the 
mighty troublers of mankind ? O death, what con- 
tempt dost thou pour on princes ! As clouds are dri- 
ven by the* northern blast ; as snow is melted by the 
sun ; and as stubble is consumed before the fire ; so 
vanishes all glory and renown at thy approach. Seest 
thou that repository of the dead, where the dust of the 
vassal and his lord are blended together in gross fami-* 
liarity ! Here all precedency is a jest. In vain is the 
corpse of the right honorable deposited in marble, or 
enclosed in silver. Alas ! the worms are not afraid to 
riot on his. flesh, who wore imperial purple. They 
keep no awful distance from majesty itself. 

Miserable they ! who were not careful to distill* 
guish themselves from the common herd of mankind, 
hut by these distinctions that are abolished in the 
grave, and that are of no avail in the awful judgment* 
With what blank face£ will they look, who have no 
other recommendations but their illustrious pedigree, 
their abundant wealth, and their popular renown ? 
when the son of the carpenter, whose life was lowly, 
and his death ignominious, shall sist them before his 
tribunal ? When every mask shall be pulled off, and 
every man appear in that character which really be- 
longs to him ? when their eternal state shall be ad- 
justed, not according to what they seemed in their 
own or others eyes, but according to what they we^e 
in the eye of God, the most uuquestionable judge of 
all their actions ? 

Cease then, O my soul ! to admire, or to envy 
the glory of the world. Nor judge them truly honora- 
ble, whose souls are not truly great, and whose glory 
will not descend after them into the grave. If a horse 
is not judged of by the gaudiness of his trappings, a 
statute by tUe grandeur eJ[ its pedestal , why should 



216 

we judge of men by their outward appendages, which 
infay be strip! bff in this present life, and must of ne- 
cessity be in the life to come ? 

Christianity, it is thine alone to lift the poor from 
the dunghill, and the needy out of the dust, and set 
them among princes ! In thy light we cleeriy see how 
these that are esteemed the oiiscourings of a!! things, 
may, notwithstanding, be the excellent of the earth. 
Be — he is truly honorable, whom the Almighty, from 
the heavenSj beholds despising in .his heart those 
things which are reckoned great among men ; and ar- 
dently aspiring at those sublime distinctions that are 
worthy of his rational and immortal nature. He pays 
indeed a due regard to his good mime ; and would not 
willingly so much as incur the suspicion of being guil- 
ty of what is unworthy of him. If a fair reputation 
may be acquired and maintained by a patient continu- 
ance in well doing, he does not at ail despise it, but 
esteems it more than riches: for a good report maketh 
the bones fat. and enables the man that is possessed 
of it to be more extensively useful, in promoting the 
good of his fellow-creatures, ana the glory of the Crea- 
tor. But even when he does good, it is not the ap- 
plause of men he principally courts ; but by honor and 
dishonor ; by evil report and good report ; he approves 
himself unto the conscience of every man. If he 
gains their commendations, he does not greatly re- 
joice ; if he incurs their censure, he is not greatly sor- 
rowful. Sometimes he takes pleasure in reproaches; 
and rejoices that he is counted worthy to suffer shame 
for his name's sake. 

What though he should live in the- vale of life ? 
though he N not pointed at as he goes along ? though 
he hear not the acclamations of the people ? His 
praise is not of men, but of God ; who knows his "way; 
who points him forth to angels, as the object of their 
regard ; while they, with true applause, recount his 
praises. 

What though he boast not of the honors of his 
race, when the royal blood of heaven flows in his 
veins, because he is born from above ? 



21? 

What though he be not a favorite of the prince ; 
when, like a prince, he has power with God? — The 1 
he possess not a great quantity of wealth ; when the 
unsearchable riches of Christ are all his own ? — Tho' 
his steps be not attended by a numerous train of scr- 
yants ; when even the blessed angels are ministering 
spirits unto him, and keep him in all his ways ? — Tho' 
he have no better mansion than a cobwebbed cottage, 
•when the King of glory deigns to come under his low- 
ly roof, and even to dw^ll with him ? — Though his 
clothes be not besmeared with gold, when he puts on 
righteousness as a garment ? Though he live on 
homely food, and drink not generous wine in gold and 
silver vessels, when the flesh and blood of the Son of 
God is his daily provision. — And though his memory 
should die away in the city where he lived, yet his 
memorial in heaven is everlasting. 

Go then, O immortal soul ! seek this honor that 
comes from God only, which is no phantom that will 
mock thy grasp ; no bubble that will break at thy 
touch ; no shadow that will fly from him that pursues 
after ; but a blessed reality that will crown thy wishes. 
This passion needs not fill thy cheeks with blushing; 
for it is adequate to thy rational nature. O glorious 
honor! which Cpesar cannot confer; which money 
cannot procure. The praises of men cannot bestow; 
the reproaches of men cannot take it away. The 
Lord of hosts hath purposed to stain the pride of ail 
other glory ; but this honor shall never be laid in dust 

On the high privilege of adoption, 

" BEHOLD what manner of love the Father 
hath bestowed on us, that we should be called the sons 
of God !" This was an exclamation worthy of thee, 
O beloved apostle, whose favorite topic is love ; in- 
spire us with these admiring thoughts, O divine Spirit! 
enkindle in our hearts that holy flame whicfa the apos- 

T 



21 



o 



Ife felt, who declares unto us the things which he saw 
and heard, that we may certainly know it is not mere- 
ly a rhetorical flourish; but a most weighty truth, and 
a most blessed reality. 

For, O ye children of this world, who glory in 
the nobility of your birth, and trace your pedigree from 
sneient kings! and ye that said, we have Abraham 
fo 1 - oar father ? what title can you show to such an ex- 
alted honor, to sach a glorious prerogative, as to be 
ealled the sons of God ? This honor have all his 
saints, being born from above, and adopted into the 
family of heaven. To the adoption of children they 
were predestinated before the day-spring knew his 
place, according to the good pleasure of his will.— 
And when the fulness of time was come, God sent 
forth his Son, made of a woman, made under the law, 
that they m^ght receive the adoption of sons. By 
faith in Christ Jesus they all partake of this high pri- 
vilege, and in some happy moments they are pleasing- 
ly conscious of this distinguished felicity, while the 
Spirit of the Son, sent forth into their hearts, bears 
witness with their spirits that they are the children of 
God, and enables them to cry, Abba, Father. — It is 
true, their real glory is eclipsed in this state of their 
pilgrimage, while absent from their father's house ; but 
the day of their manifestation is fast approaching, and 
in the mean time they wait with humble hope for the 
adoption, the redemption of their bodies, when, by 
their resurrection from the dead, they shall, like their 
glorious Redeemer, be declared the sons of God with 
power, before the assembled world. 

Justly, very justly, may our wonder be raised to 
the highest pitch, when we consider the greatness of 
that God by whom this blessing is conferred ; the 
meanness of those persons on whom it is bestowed ; 
the loftiness of the means by which it is procured; 
and the innumerable advantages with which it is at- 
tended. 

If the glory of children is their father's; if kin- 
dred to the great is valued, though remote ; if to be 



219 

the son-in-law of a Ling was held by David a matter 
of such great importance : how distinguishing is their 
Jot, whose God is their Father, and Jesus Christ is not 

spied to call them brethren ! Though every king 
and every emperor that wears a crown, and sways a 
sceptre, were allied to them by the ties of blood, it 
could not equal, by ten thousand, degrees, this high 
and ample renown. 

And wherefore, O glorious Jehovah wouldst thou- 
confer upon the children of men such inconceivable 
honor to join them to thy family ? It was not to sup- 
ply thy wants, who was sufficient to thy own happi- 
ness, and infinitely well pleased in thy beloved Son, 
It was not to reward our worth, who had no attracting 
qualifications to recommend us. This is not the m?n- 
ner of m^n, O Lord, who use not to adept, unless they 
have no children of their own, or at least observe* 
some amiable quality about the object of their favor. 
Thus Esther is adopted by Pfiordecai, being a beauti- 
ful virgin ; and Moses, being a proper child, is drawn 
out of the water by the daughter of a great king, and 
nourished as her own son. But we were the children 
of wrath, heirs of damnation, and cast out in our blood 
to the loathing of our person. Eow often have we 
rebelled against the reproofs of his word, contemned 
the thunders of his law, and rejected the offers of his 
grace I yet patience waited for us, and mercy appre- 
hended us. 

And that we might receive the adoption of sons. 
the Son of God did n&t abhor \he ignominions cross? 
"With a gre^t snip indeed hast thou obtained this free- 
dom for us! To make us creatures, did cost thee but 
a word ; to make us children, demanded the effusion 
of thy blood ; and it pleased the Father to bruise 
thee ! Herein perceive we the love of" God, that he 
withheld not. his Son. his only Son, from the most in- 
conceivable agonies, to compass his design. 

Glorious indeed must be the advantage of this 
high relation, the purchase of such precious blood ! — 

gels ye shall have in charge Ibe^e favorites 01 hea- 



220 

Ten. Ye enemies of their salvation, rejoiee not against 
them. If you devour them, ye shall offend : if ye 
touch them, you shall touch the apple of his eye. — 
For in the fear of the Lord is strong confidence, and 
liis children shall have a place of refuge. Their pa- 
rents may leave them, but the Lord shall take them 
up. He may correct, but will not cast off. If he 
speak against them, he earnestly remembers them ; 
Ms- heart is turned, his bowels yearn, and his relent- 
ings are kindled. Their strength is small, but he 
spares them as a man spareth his son that serveth 
.him. Their imperfections are many : but he pities 
them as a father pitieth his children. As a crane 
and as a swallow, so do they chatter, but he loves to 
Lear their voice. Make known your request unto 
.him, and he will give you what is good. „Cry unto 
him, my father ! he will be the guide of your youth* 
But) O the riches of the glory of that inheritance, 
which,is neither corruptible, like thy gold and silver, 
thou vain world ! nor denied like the paradise of Ma- 
Jiomet ! but incorruptible, and undented, and fading , 
not away, which is reserved in heaven for them. — 
How justly may they say, the lines are fallen to me 
in pleasant places, when God himself is their portion ? 
Por thus runs the apostolic declaration, " if children, 
then heirs, heirs of God, and joint heirs with Christ.'" 
Hail, j e distinguished, happy persons! who, though 
poor and despised, are the children of the Most High, 
Lire to his praise, and demonstrate to the world, that 
you are indeed the children of your father. Imitate 
his example, reverence hi3 authority, and let it be 
jour meat and drink to do his will. 



THE COMPLAINT. 

SWEET was the time when he, whom all the 
angels love, and the ransomed tribes adore, did hold 
familiar discourse with me a prisoner ol earth. For, 



±>1 

Whither could I turn mine eyes, and not behold the 
most ravishing and delightful prospect ? Above me, 
I could lilt up my most ardent thought to God that 
dweileth in the heavens, and I could call him mine ; 
and thes^right glebes I could contemplate but as the 
pavement of my father's house. For me, O radiant 
sun ! you shine, you rise, you fall. Angels ! ye are 
my guardians, Ye beasts of the earth ! and ye stones 
Of the field ! are my allies round about me. The va- 
rious ills of life I could surve}^ with calm composure ; 
yea, in the midst of them, I could rejoice as more* 
than a conqueror. 

Before me, death met my view, deprived of bfe 
sting ; and I could ask the grave, where is thy victo- 
ry ? yea, even the awful judgment could not appal my 
Soul, in some distinguished moments. " Amen ; even 
So, come, Lord Jesus !" could I say. Begone, ye 
envious clouds 1 prepare his way, ye glorious storms 
of thunder and lightning 1 For, O my conscience ! 
what perfect peace was made in all thy borders ! 

The rising morn beheld me pouring out my pray- 
ers ; and when the evening star arose, this was my 
exercise. O then ! the sacred word was sweet as 4 
honey, refreshing as the dew, and cheering as the 
light. The high praises of God were uttered by my* 
mouth ; and when they said, go up to the house of the 
Lord, to the tabernacles of the Most High ; how great- 
ly I rejoiced ! then I could count the sabbath a de- 
light. Methought tne lovely light did wear another 
aspect, than that of other days. How sweetly could I 
mecliiafe on the law of the Lord t The doctrines of 
religion, the mysteries of redemption, and the promises 
of the everlasting covenant, were my darling theme ;* 
and my delights were with the excellent ones of the 
earth. \ 

Ah ! lovely peace of mind, where art thou fled U 
The thoughts of God are a terror to me. I tremble at 
Iris justice, and even his mercy and his goodness af- 
ford not consolation. How dismal is the vale of deaths 
snji the grave's solitary mansion! The glory ia-dev 



222 

parted. I went out full, but am returned empty. — i 
wherefore wouldst thou leave thy first and best belov- 
ed for all that is in the world ? Can sin, with its be- 
witching pleasures, the world with its empty enjoy- 
ments, or thy own imperfect legal righteousgips, be in 
the stead of Christ unto the soul? Begone ye vaia 
pretenders; tc I will return unto my first husband;, then, 
was it better with me than now." 



THE SUCCESSFUL SUPPLICANT. 

SOME take delight in hunting after the breath of 
popular applause ; and if they can live upon the 
tongues of the multitude, they fancy they have attain? 
€d a great measure of felicity. This man revolves* 
with a world of pleasure, the works of the learned, 
and reads the stars, and talks.- with -heroes of former 
ages. The flowing bowl, and jolly company, are the 
delights of another. 

But to the real christian, no exercise appears 
with more distinguished grace than prayer in the name 
of Christ. This opens the gates of heaven, and fetch- 
es blessings from on high. The bended knee, the 
lifted hand, the imploring eye, with the inflamed heart; 
these never fail to be attended with joys unknown to 
you, ye sons of the earth ! Angels rejoice, and God's 
own ear listens delighted. Lift up your voice to him ; 
O ! talk with him ; w r hether the morn purples the east. 
Or the evening starlights up his lamp. 

The eternal Son was yet unclothed with flesh 
and blood ; but, trying on the coat of our humanity, 
lie is recorded to have appeared, in human shape, unta 
the father of the patriarchs, from whom the Jewish 
nation derived their original. Overwhelmed with 
perplexity, and deeply distressed how to face the sup- 
posed rage of his incensed brother, he tries to pour his 
oomplaint into his compassionate bosom ; nor was his 
'labor vain.- It ^rae aight^ aad silence reigned ever 



> 223 

all ; when, lo ! a human likeness is presented fo his 
view. With him he held discourse, and s-om out the 
night, till now the star of the day was advancing his 
chariot wheels; and thus the heavenly stranger s oke 4 
" it is enough, O friend of God ! permit me to depart. 
The rising day, and flying shadows, forbid my pre- 
sence here." " No," said the favorite of heaven ; " I 
will not let thee go, except thou bless me." Be wept, 
he made supplication he had power over the angel, 
and prevailed. Hence he had deserved the name of 
Israel. O happy victor ! He bad power with God, 

and conquered the Omnipotent ! Let us go, and 

do likewise. 



©N WATCHFULNESS. 

THIS may be considered, either as relating t© 
sin, that we may resist temptations to it ; or to judg- 
ment, that we may be prepared for the coming of the 
Son of man. . 

In these views, the watchful christian is one* 
*who from a persuasion of the strength of his enemies 
without, who wait for his halting ; of the wickedness 
and deceit of his own heart within ; and the great- 
ness of the danger he incurs ; — carefully guards aH 
the avenues of temptation. There is nothing about 
himself he judges safe to trust ; not his lips ; for with 
thee, O David ! he prays " set a watch, O Lord ! be- 
fore my mouth ; keep the door of my lips." Not his 
eyes ; for he makes a covenant with them. Not his 
ears ; he shuts them from hearing of blood, of slander 
and detraction, and of the instruction that causeth to 
err. But chiefly he darts a jealous eye over his hearjt;- 
for, of its being " deceitful above all things, and des- 
perately wicked," he has the most iinquestion* He 
proof, both from his own experience, and from the 
experience of the great surrounding cloud of witnes- 



224 



* 



No sin, he judges himself absolutely secure*! 
against, (hough ever so atrocious ; whilst he surveys 
the numerous troops of slain, and sees how many 
stronger than he hath fallen by the power of tempta- 
tion. How can he be conckient in himself, when he 
sees the man according to God's own heart weltering 
in murder, and adultery ? And that most eminent 
apostle, whose faith the Lord so highly commended* 
who was with him in the holy mount, and faithfully 
as well as particularly warned oi his danger ; — even 
that most eminent apostle denying his Lord and Mas- 
ter ; (blush, ye papists, who make him the foundation 
of your church !) denying him thrice ; denying him 
with oaths and curses ; not when intimidated before 
any tribunal, at the presence of his judges, but at the 
accusation of a silly maid. 

Neither is there any time in which he thinks it 
safe to intermit his vigilance. The whole time of his 
sojourning here, he studies to pass in fear ; and even 
when he sleeps, his heart is waking. He knows, that 
although there is a time for the body to sleep, that its 
wearied powers may be recruited by these balmy dews, 
and reanimated to new labors ; yet there is no time 
for his soul to slumber, whose nature, like the fiery 
flame, is to be ever in motion ; and, instead of being 
re;? tired by indolence and inactivity, is rendered more 
dull and languid. Neither in prosperity nor adversi- 
ty, neither in solitude cor in society, can he sing a 
requiem to his soul, as if it were without the verge of 
danger : And even in the time of special enjoyments r 
and distinguished manifestations, he knows very well 
that he ought not to say, u my mountain stands strong ; 
and 1 shall never he moved." As he who comes out 
of a hot bath, is very careful how he ventures himself 
immediately to the cold chilling air, as being never 
more ready to catch a cold, than upon such an occa- 
sion; so, he is never more circumspect how he re- 
turns into the world, and exposes himself to its hurt- 
ful sn a-es, than when he has been enjoying the hap^ 
py hours of. fellowship withGotL 



225 

But if there is any known sin, which may gaia 
advantage over him, or easily beset him, whether be- 
cause suited to his natural constitution; or, perhaps 
it is common to the age, and not branded with the in- 
feiriy it deserves ; or, perhaps, it is of a secret nature, 
and may be transacted without the knowledge of oth^ 
ers; or, perhaps, it is an old sin from which he was 
purged, to which, if he should return, his last state 
would be worse than the first; or, perhaps, it is a sin 
which is very ready to put on the visor and mask of 
duty, of which it is very difficult to repent ; — he is pe- 
culiarly watchful against that sin. And that he may 
Iveep at the remotest distance from all approaches un- 
to iniquity, and abstain from all appearance of evil, 
he goes not to the brink, or utmost verge even of law- 
ful liberty. That he may not be guilty of any un- 
lawful thing, he will abridge himself in the use of law- 
ful things, upon a proper occasion. 

But it is no less the duty of a watchful christian 
to wait the coming of his Lord, that he may be found of 
him in peace. He gives diligence, that neither his 
conscience be defiled with known sin, nor his affec- 
tions entangled with vain cares ; that when he shall 
appear, he "may have confidence, and bid an unreluc- 
tant adieu to transitory vanities. He refers not his 
eternal interests to be adjusted till he is stretched on 
his sick or dying bed ; for he knows, that both the 
time and manner of his exit are wholly in God's hand. 
The numerous deaths of his acquaintances and fellow- 
mortals, he considers as the calls of the bridegroom, be 
ye also ready. If his head ache, if his stomach loathe 
its food, or sleep fly from his eyelids, — all these, and 
such like distresses, he regards as a set of monitors, 
crowding round about him, ami telling him, that the 
judze standeth before the door, and the owning of the 
Lord draiveth ntgh. Death comes ; eternity unfolds 
itself to his view. See ! with what dauntless magna- 
nimity he enters the list with his last enemy. Far 
from discouraging his surviving fellow-christians, by a 
dispiriting behavior, he throws an additional lustre on 



226- 

the christian faith, and makes the beholders wisfe 
themselves were the dying person. 

Ye lying vanities of life ! farewell. Welcome, 
ye heavenly joys ! Amen : even so, conic quickly. Lord 
Jesus. Such are the wishes he breathes from his in- 
most soul. His latter end is peace. 



ON GENTLENESS. 

IT is that amiable grace, whereby the christian 
restrains unlawful anger and moderates even just re- 
sentment. Perhaps, his natural temper is of the rug- 
ged kind ; yet he has experienced the accomplishment 
of that gracious promise, that " the Leopard shall lie 
down with the kid ; and the lion shall eat straw with 
the ox." It is not in his tongue, hut in his heart, 
where this grace chiefly resides. He pretends not, 
with the ancient stoics, wholly to discard the pas- 
sions of anger, which were not the meekness of wis- 
dom, hut of folly. Nor does it wholly lie in a courte- 
ous and obliging behavior, commonly called good man- 
ners., which may be but an artificial appearance. — 
Sometimes he ir>ny come with a rod, and assume a 
prudent severity; but it is rather in the cause of God, 
than in his own cause. If he smites, he breaks not 
the head ; but his reproofs are precious oil. Blessed 
be his anger, for it is merciful ; and his wrath, for it is 
kind. O my soul ! come thou into his secret, and be 
thou united unto his assembly. 

Cruelty and delight in the miseries of ethers, 
though his most bitter enemies, is a disposition he 
greatly abhors ; far less can he suffer his attachments 
to ?.ny particular party to swallow up all his senti- 
ments of humanity to those who differ from him. Let 
bloody papists sport themselves with the torments of 
those whom they call heretics ; he has not so learned 
Christ, upon whom theSririt descended, not hi the lifce- 
l$gg Qi'a vulture, but a dove. When man is born at first 



227 

into the world of nature, we behold him a peaceful in- 
fant, ail naked and defenceless ; not armed with claws 
and teeth, as some other animals ; and can we reaso- 
nably suppose, that when a man is born again into the 
world of grace, he will come, armed with fire and 
sword, to destroy all around him ? 

So far is he from stretching forth his hand against 
them that are at peace with him, that he will not suf- 
fer rancor to foster in his breast against his most ma^ 
lignant foe. He wisely considers, that he himself has 
acted a more unjust part towards his God, than ever 
the most ungenerous person did to him ; and yet ob- 
tained mercy. He does not only suppress his resent- 
ment from bursting out into violent vociferations; not 
is he like some who affect a sullen silence, louder than, 
all words, to proclaim the implacable malice of tbeiu 
hearts : but he banishes from his very thoughts the 
purpose of revenge. He considers, that it is far more 
glorious, that it bespeaks more solid wisdom and great* 
ness, to forget an injury than to requite it. He leaves 
it to fools and madmen, to furious beasts land silly 
wretches, to tear themselves in their anger, to fla?h 
fury with their eyes, to faulter in their speech, to 
tremble in their joints, to stamp with their feet, to 
wreak their resentment on whatever comes in their 
road, though perhaps senseless and inanimate ; — whea 
they receive some petty affront, or meet with contra- 
diction. 

He resembles not a city without gates, or broken 
down, and without walls, that may easily be assault- 
ed ; nor powder, that may quickly be inflamed ; but 
may be compared to green wood, that is not easily* 
kindled, but may soon be extinguished. He looks 
not at every petty injury as through a microscope, 
wkieh /nagniiies far beyond £Jae life. 



228 



The natural state of mankind. 

See how the mountains are covered with stiow. 
and the valleys are stript of their lovely verdure. No 
fragrant flower perfumes the air, nor embalms the eve- 
ning walk. The songsters of the grove have folded 
up their wings, and forgot their notes, who, some time 
ago did sing among the branches. Where are the 
golden treasures of the harvest, or the smiling flowers 
of the spring? Joy and gladness is fled from the 
plentiful field, and all is one scene of desolation. — 
W hat wonder ! when the glorious fountain of our day 
has withdrawn his enlivening beams; resigning to the 
power of chilling cold, both the aerial regions, and the 
watery element. In comparison with the heat of sum- 
Slier, the warmest days are cold, even at the height of 
noon. Full often the scowling wintry clouds wrap up 
the day's fair face. All joy is darkened. The sun 
seems to be swallowed up : the moon and stars with- 
draw their shining. The low-bent clouds pour down. 
Short is the day. Row tedious the length, and how 
deep the horrors of the night ! When every brook is 
swelled to a river, let not the traveller pursue his jour- 
ney. Ye that do business in great waters! be not 
rash to tear your cables from the shore, when winter's 
fury rages on the main. 

But, while I muse on the rigors of this unjoyous 
season, let me reflect what moral sentiments may here 
be taught. Even the barren winter may be fruitful of 
intellectual truths; and binding frost may be instru- 
mental in thawing the heart, and melting the affec- 
tions. 

And first then, what a lively emblem have we in 
this, of that state we are in when we come into the 
world ! who are, as an apostle tells, by nature children 
of wrath. While this winter is not past, the flower* 
appear not in the e;irth, the time of the singing of birds 
is not come, the voice of the turtle is not heard in our 



229 

land. Then we derive not our consolation from tine 
glorious Sun of righteousness, but from the fire of 
worldly enjoyments., or sinful pleasures ; no flowers 
of divine grace adorn (he conversation, nor are we fil- 
led with the fruits of righteousness ; we know not the 
joyful sound, neither is the melody of praise heard in 
our tabernacles. — Is the day short, and the night long? 
Know, O natural man ! that it is the very picture of 
that natural state wherein you are. How soon is the 
day of prosperity made dark with night ! — a night that 
shall not see the dawning of the day, and no joyful 
sound comes therein. Though for a while you may 
cheer up your heart, and think to kindle a fire, and 
walk in the light of your fire, and compass yourselves 
about with sparks; what will you do, when the sha- 
dows of the everlasting evening shall be stretched 
forth, and the long night of eternity shall wrap you if> 
its impenetrable gloom ? Who can live in his cold ? 
Who knows the power of his anger ? 

And here I recal to mind an admonition of our 
Lord to his disciples, when warning them of the 
dreadful catastrophe of that ungrateful city Jerusalem; 
pray ye, that your flight be not in the winter. O merci- 
ful Father ! let it not be 1113^ miserable fate, to take 
my flight from time and this my mortal body, while 
the winter of thy wrath is not past, while the rain crP 
thy indignation is not over and gone. 



ON IMMORTALITY. 

REJOICE, ye wise and good ! tremble, ye knave's 
and fools ! (-/ho is anxious for your happiness ?) for 
immortality, that pleasing awful thought, is no fantasy 
tic dream. Not only is it brought to light in the gos* 
pel ; it is written in the volumes of creation and pro- 
vidence. Set immortality aside, and beasts are wiser 
^yo4 happier than njiea, and vico is preferable to virtue*' 



230 

Ye brutal race ! that fly in air, or swim in floods, 
or tread the ground; — scon you arrive at your highest 
perfection, and are quickly nut in possession of your 
chieiest good. You are not cursed with carking cares, 
nor anxious thoughts of evils yet unfelt. Small are 
your capacities ; and your desires are few, but none of 
them are vain. But we always travel by slow degrees 
to the summit of our perfection; yea, in vain we 
think to arrive at the perfection our nature is capable 
of. How dim is our knowledge ! How languid is our 
virtue ! How imperfect is our happiness ! — while here. 
Our eyes are not satisfied with seeing, nor our eais 
with hearing, nor our understandings with truth, nor 
our desires with good. Were we to live coeval with 
the sun, we might be still enlarging our views, exalt- 
ing our sentiments, approaching nearer to the glorious 
Godhead, whose image we are. — Large are our capa- 
cities, many are our desires, which are not filled, 
which are not satisfied. 

Nor is the desire of immortality the feeblest. — 
Who among mankind covets not to be remembered, 
when he hiois'If shall forgot all mortal things .? For 
this the image of the mind is transfused into the page 
of the orator, the poet, the philosopher. It is the of- 
fice of the statuary ana painter, to eternize the image 
of the body ; and even the poor mechanic erects his 
monumental stone. There were who have called 
their lands by their own names. Their inward 
thought was, that their dwellings should continue to 
all generations. Death comes ; death, the mighty le- 
veller; He stops our ardent pursuits, disappoints our 
fond hopes; and even the monuments designed to 
immortalize our names, are mortal. — Like you, ye 
thoughtless herds ! we fall, we die, and are laid in the 
grave; our place no more beholds us. And, even in 
death, you seem less wretched than the human race. 
To you, death comes undreaded; but we, long ere we 
feel, must fear t lie blow. Yet we are your superiors, 
higher in the dignity of, our uatures, and higher in the 
divine regards. Short-lived is your happiness, with 



231 

which your existence terminates in death. But oars 
then first commences, when the dull body falls into 
the s;rave. The sprightly mind spurns the vile earth. 
No more we complain of unsatisfied desires, and use- 
less capacities. Then, and not till then, shall we at- 
tain that perfection, and taste that satisfaction, to 
which we were designed. 

Thus, even our inferiority to the brutes, proves 
that we are superiors ; and the eternal perfection of 
our nature, is . proclaimed, by our greatest imperfec- 
tions. Nor is it the only merit of immortality to as- 
sert the glorious, prerogative of human nature above 
the bestial order : it is this alone which can support 
the cause of virtue, and justify the ways of God to 
men. — Virtue has charms indeed ; none will contest 
it. Being a lady of heavenly extraction, she shines 
in native elegance and beauty. The radiant sun is 
not so fair, when he emerges from the eastern wave; 
nor the fair handed spring, when she flushes the infant 
year with many-colored blossoms. Yet, O celestial 
virgin ! who would match with thee for good and all ; 
if misery here, if annihilation hereafter, were all thy 
dowry ? Even peace of conscience, without the glo- 
ry of immortality, were but a shadowy happiness.—- 
Were this hope a mere delusion, how could we justify 
thy procedure, O thou wise and holy governor of the 
world ? " Shall not ihe judge of all the earth do 
right ?" See ! wickedness, in various shapes, lifts her 
proud head, and reigns triumphant; while modest vir- 
tue seeks the shades, or pines in want, or groans iu 
chains, or mourns in the dungeon. 

And even in these happy countries, where jus- 
tice, enthroned by wholesome laws, draws his i npar- 
tifd sword ; how many secret crimes, exceeding hei- 
nous and detested, which cannot be found out by the 
most accurate inquisition, or are incapable of being 
auhnadverted upon! How many virtues, Which canot 
be rewarded ! Presume not to blame the divine pro- 
cedure, nor question the wisdom of providence, when 
Jacob-like, she lays her hands awry ; the right hand 



232 

•f prosperity, and the left hand of adversity, appeal 
ing as misplaced, upon the heads of righteous and 
wicked men. " For, verily, there is a reward for the 
righteous, and a strange punishment for the worker* 
of iniquity." You see the wicked great in power; 
feut suddenly you curse his habitation. But, mark 
the perfect man; behold the upright; his latter end 
is peace. " Righteous, O Lord ! are thy judgments ^ 
just and true are thy ways, thou King of saints." 

O glorious immortality ! it is thine alone, t« 
maintain the rights of virtue and humanity. Without 
thee, the beasts were our superiors, and the worst of 
men would have the advantage of the best in number- 
less instances. The dying raptures of the saints and 
of martyrs, and the misgiving horrors of the ungodly, 
are inspired by thee alone. And though thou wert a 
gay chimera, and but a pleasing deceit ; yet were it 
the interest of mankind to hold thee fast, to refuse te 
let thee go. 

And can eternity belong to me t With what aa 
awful joy are all my powers affected ? Ye worldly 
inanities ! where are ye now ? Lo ! there the beggar 
stands upon a level with the king. At once the robes, 
at once the rags, have disappeared. Weighed in this 
even balance, how small your weight, ye worldly af- 
flictions ! Where is thy grisly aspect, king of terrors t 
Be still a king of terrors to the wicked, I crown thee 
prince of life. Why should I fear, if it is only thine 
to wound my mortal part ? My heaven born soul 
"laughS at the shaking of thy deadly dart.' " O death * 
where is thy dreadful sting ? O grave ! where is thj 
boasted victory ?" 



The holy scriptures. 

HAIL, sacred page ! volumes of inspiration ! in 
whose presence the compositions of mortal wit hide 
their ashamed countenances ; as stars which @Uoa§ 



233 

brightly in the clear sky, disappear, when the morti* 
ing sun purples the eastern clouds. Where shall we 
iinJ such venerable antiquity, as in this reverend 
code ? Before Abraham was, was Christ, the great I 
am. Before Orpheus, or Linus, or Hesiod, or Homer, 
were the scriptures of the Hebrew Lawgiver. 

It is true, the hoary head is not a crown of glory* 
except when found in the way of righteousness. — 
There are trilling*, there are immoral, there are incon- 
sistent productions. If tisese should vie with the sa- 
cred oracles, in the eariiness of their existence; yet 
thejr must not presume to claim an equal regard from 
men, with the book of God, .'whose subject is a com- 
pound of the marvellous? the pious, the useful, and the 
grand. The histories of the past, the prophecies of 
future events, are neither tri fling nor deceitful. The 
precepts how pure! The doctrines and mysteries, 
how sublime ! How worthy of God, to reveal them ! 
oi man, to believe them ! Here, both the natural and 
moral world unfold unto our view. Here, we heboid 
this beauteous fabric, emerging out of nothing, and 
wrapped in a winding-sheet ef flames. Here we are 
informed of the birth of evil, both natural and moral; 
and how they are again rooted out of the world. The 
miseries you are to avoid ; the happiness you are to 
pursue ; the method wherein you may attain the one, 
and avoid the other ; — these are the important and in- 
teresting themes of the bible. Peruse these holy re- 
cords; and he acquainted with thyself, and with thy 
God, O mortal ! To ransom thee from death, to render 
you blessed both here and hereafter; see here, thy 
great Creator, lying in the womb, groaning on a cross, 
and sleeping in a grave. Jesus ! thou Savior of the 
world, these scriptures testify of thee. Thou art the 
Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the ending 
of them. In the Old Testament, thou art concealed ; 
in the New Testament, thou art revealed. Thou art 
the end of the law, and the sum of the gospel. 

It is true indeed, not every place shines with an 
equal lustre, But is it any detraction from the beauty 

r 2 



234 

of the material world, the fair book of the creatieny 
€hat here \here is a charnpain country, and there & 
barren wilderness; here a craggy rock, and there a 
fruitfUi valley-? We despise not the beauty of the 
firmament, though some parts of it are not sown so 
thick as others with starry lamps. But should we 
nearer view those seemingly barren places in the held 
of revelation ; should we dig into those rocky tests, 
with care and reverence; perhaps then we might find 
cause to alter our sentiments. Even the genealogies 
are not endless, nor the ceremonies insignificant. — • 
Even here we find rich veins of wisdom ; and Christ, 
the pearl of great price. *l 

But is there not something more than mortal 
breathing through every page ? It is here the atten- 
tive mind is struck with awe, as under the impenetra- 
ble shade of some aspiring grove, or under the roof of 
some religious edifice. Thus, angels which appeared 
to holy men of old, struck the beholders with a dread, 
for which they could not well account. There was 
something in their voice, in their air, in their gesture,, 
which spoke more than human. What loftiness of 
phrase in some ! what majestic simplicity of expres* 
sion in other passages ! How unparalleled ! How ini- 
mitable by mortal pen ! Thus he whose name is called 
u the Word of God," in his exalted state, is more glo* 
rious than the kings of the earth ; and, even in his hu? 
miliation, there was something exceedingly majesties 
which poured contempt upon princes. 

Be not ashamed of the scriptures. They are the 
power of God to salvation, to every one that belie* 
*veth. O blessed word ! thou convertest the soul ; 
thoa enlightenest the eyes; thou rejoicest the heart J 
thou givest wisdom unto the simple ; and light unto 
ihe blind ; and life unto the dead ! — Peruse the scrip-, 
tures; your corruptions shall be mortified; your gra- 
ces shall he vivified - r your thoughts, your words, your 
actions, shall be sanctified, be purified, be rectified. — 
These will alleviate your sorrows in adversity; and 
i i prosperity heighten your enjoyments. Here, nuili- 
titiules hare founti life everlasting. 



235 

£) ye who hare received the truth, in the love 
thereoi ! who have his blessed word sweeter than ho- 
ney to j^our mouth ! give glory to that God, who, 
when the human race were wandering in uncertainty 
and error, was pleased to make such a revelation of 
himself; — a revelation even dropt, where we have no- 
tices conveyed to us, more true and certain than from 
the famed deadly oracle of Delphos, or Dodona. 

Praise him, who has not committed the intima- 
tions of his will unto the leaves of uncertain tradition, 
which every breath of wind might puff away ; which, 
in latter ages, might have been greatly corrupted, by 
passing through a multitude of hands. But he hath 
written the same word, which formerly was only ver- 
bal, in a book the peculiar care of providence ; where 
the divine revelation is kept as in a garrison, and 
needs not fear from the injuries of time, from the cun- 
ning of Satan, nor from the evil designs of corrupt 
men. Adore him, who by his Holy Spirit, informed 
the minds of holy men of old, with such concealed 
truths; and guided their pens in writing these holy 
-originais. Acknowledge his goodness, who hath pre- 
served these heavenly records from flames, and floods, 
and desolations; who hath cast your lot, not in those 
dusky corners of the world, where the word of God 
sheds not its holy light, or is, by public authority, 
prohibited from being consulted! 

Enow thy privilege, O happy land ! much are 
you advantaged every way beyond thy neighboring 
states ; but, chieity, that unto you are committed the 
©racles of God. Turn not your blessing to a curse* 
Young men ! search the scriptures; they will make 
you wise unto salvation ; you shall have more under- 
standing than the ancients. Old men ! search the 
scriptures ; tlity will be the support of your old age, 
and make you sing as in the days of your youth. Ye 
men of rank and station ! who dwell in lofty palace^ 
and ride in gilded chariots, O make them your h c ; i- 
tage forever! Ye weaker christians! here is muck 
to satisfy your craving appetite* Ye men of genius 1 



23& 

here is Strong meat, to suit your nicer palates, anil 
drive "away disdain. 

Meditate on the law of the Lord both day and 
night* The more you draw from this refreshing foun- 
tain, the more will the waters abound. But, would 
you enter into the secret of the Lord, which is with 
them that fear him, hring with you a pure, a humble, 
and a fervent mind. Whom shall he teach knowledge? 
Whom shall he make to understand doctrine ? Those 
whose hearts are not haughty, nor their eyes lofty ; 
but who are like the child weaned from the miik, anil 
drawn from the breasts ; those who are estranged from 
their lusts, who lay aside ail tilthiness and superfluity 
of naughtiness ; those whose souls do pant exceeding- 
ly, and long for God's commandments, like thee, O 
blessed David, whose eyes did timously prevent the 
night-watches, to meditate on the statutes of the 
Lord. 

Take to yourselves, ye jealous papists ! your fa~ 
bul ous traditions, and hide this holy lamp under the 
bushel of foreign languages ; and, by this, confess the 
weakness of your cause. Ye wild enthusiasts ! vaunt 
of the light within you, but take heed, lest that light 
you boast is in you, be darkness. Walk in the light 
of your fire, and in the sparks of your kindling, ye 
unbelieving deists ! But O house of Israel ! come, 
and let us walk in the light of the Lord. Consult 
this heavenly guide, O thou my soul ! and let your 
delight be in the law of the Lord. Let me often ex- 
patiate in these hallowed fields of revelation, and, like 
the riisciules, pluck the full ears of corn ; and rub 
them from the husk, by ardent meditation and fervent 
prayer. 

Shine upon my soul, O heavenly spirit ! bear 
witness in my heart. Imprint the bible there; make 
this Ihe library -of God. Then shall I be made wiser 
than my teachers, and, in all my afflictions, be com- 
forted ; and, though I walk through death's dark 
shades, yet will my ste;>s be conducted unto those 
blissful regions, where " the sun shall no more go 



237 

down, fior the moon withdraw her shining : hut the 
Lord shall be my everlasting light, and my God mf 
£lory." 



ON ELECTION. 

STOOP down, presumptuous reason ! remember 
from whence thou art fallen. Behold even in thy 
perfect state, it was not in thee to find out God, by 
the most accurate researches ; how much less shalt 
thou now be able to find out the Almighty unto per- 
fection ? Come holy faith, and humble reverence ! 
teach us to lift our thoughts to the most distinguish- 
ing privilege of electing love. O ! that while we ad- 
mire the sublimity of the doctrine, we may taste the 
sweetness of the benefit. Happy they who, instead of 
intruding, with bold curiosity into the secrets of the 
Most High, give diligence to make their calling and 
election sure. By the dictates of unerring wisdom, 
let our sentiments he regulated, in this important arti- 
cle of our most holy faith, the purpose of God accord* 
ing to election. 

The date of it is eternal. Yes ; it must be so ; 
for every purpose of his will must be coeval with him- 
self. O glorious thought t to have dwelt upon the 
heart of a loving God before the foundation of the 
world ! What grateful emotions may it not excite in 
the minds of these high favorites, that God has loved 
them with an everlasting love, before the day-spring 
knew his place ? How deservedly shall their medita- 
tions of him be sweet, both in the night and day, 
whose precious thoughts towards them are ancient as 
eternity itself ? 

Its objects are particular. Of the determinate 
counsel of God we read in the scriptures ; but of the 
indeterminate counsel we do not read. If the nameg 
of the discioles were written in heaven : if Clement's 
Ragae was iu the book ef life ; assign a reason, if yotf 



238 

can, why any that are the Lord's should be less fore* 
known by him, who knows whom he hath chosen, 
without respect of persons. If in thy book, O God t 
all our members are written, which, in continuance, 
were fashioned, when as yet there was none of them ; 
much more are all the saints, the members of his body, 
of his flesh and of his bones, written without excep- 
tion, in the fair book of life. O ye that are partakers 
of such distinguished honor ! live to his praise ; and 
be his worthy name engraven on your hearts and on 
the palms of your hands,- — by whom your worthless 
names are written among the living in Jerusalem, 
when others are written in the earth. 

Its motives are sovereign. Boasting, thou art for 
ever excluded here ! Even the Savior's merits, to 
which we owe our salvation, are not the source of our 
election. Nor will precious faith gather where it has 
not strawed, by laying claim to be the cause of God's 
electing love. But least of all can it be said, that God 
hath chosen us because we were holy ; and according 
to our works. Election is the root ; these are the 
Sowers : election is the foundation ; these the super- 
structure : election is the fountain, and these are 
■streams that issue from it. Row can they be elected 
of God for any civil distinction, or moral prerogative t 
when some of them were profligate and flagitious ; 
most of them illiterate and poor ; and all of them by 
.nature the children of wrath even as others? This 
is not the manner of men, O Lord ! how deservedly 
they love thee, who, without deserving, were loved 
by thee ! 

The tenor is irrevocable. For, though the pur- 
poses of earthly sovereigns may he disannulled ; tho* 
Unforeseen accidents nvdy dash their maturest schemes^ 
and encroach upon their wisest plans, what should al- 
ter the counsel of the Most High, who is not a man 
that he should repent ? The mountains, these strong 
i lations of the earth, may be removed, but the 
foundation of God stand eth sure. The election shall 
obtain, both gr<*ce and glory, though eartto and hell 



259 

were leagued against them. As many as are ordained 
to eternal life, shall believe ; nor shall they be decei- 
ved !>y the most cunning artifices of the enemy of 
their salvation. 



Evidmce of the truth of Christianity. 

IT is true that miracles are ceased, by which, in 
early ages, it pleased the Holy Ghost to attract the 
observation or the unthinking world to the doctrine of 
the gosaei, and to confirm the faith o; true disciples. — 
But let not modern inridels complain on this score, 
for want of sufficient evidence to the truth of Chris- 
tianity. Though we see not now the laws of nature 
reversed ; the lame foregoing his crutches ; the blind 
rejoicing in the light of day ; and the dead restored 
to life again ; we are not wanting of other advantages, 
which the miraculous age could not afford. The doc- 
trine of the gospel bag travelled with the sun ; is pub- 
licity professed by sundry nations of differing cus- 
toms, and various dispositions. Glorious are its ef- 
fects upon the hearts and fives of many (though alas I 
too few) of its professors. The sensual man no more 
rerves divers lusts and pleasures, when he obeys it 
from the heart. The crups of the drunkard, the oaths 
of the blasphemer, the sordid gain of the oppressor, 
are renounced and forgotten. Those who once wal- 
lowed in every sinful pollution* now shine in the 
beauty of holiness. Such blessed ejects, it is true, 
were known even in the age of miracles, in those 
places where the gospel was first preached. But what 
shall we uow think of the almost universal spread, and 
long continuance of this holy profession, in spite of 
the philosopher's wit, and the persecutor's sword.— 
Be it so ; these favorable presumptions in beh: 1 of 
Christianity, do not beget that lively faith that purl- 
fies the heart, nor what the great apostle caHs ih fdl 
assurance cf understanding. No more could miracles, 



Yet both the ©ne and the other are sufficient t© sepeen 
the holy faith from absolute contempt, ay and until 
its high pretensions are candidly examined by the se* 
rious enquirer after truth. 

Nor can I be easily persuaded that ever the deist 
was born, who can truly say, I exerted myself to the 
utmost of my ability to find out the truth ; I begged 
with my utmost fervor my Maker to shew' me his way; 
I was not previously prejudiced against the gospel by 
the love of any lust. But after all my efforts, 1 can- 
not think that Jesus is any more than an impostor.— 
Such an impartial and vigorous enquiry is certainly 
that will of God, which, if any man will do, he shall 
know the doctrine, whether it be of God. 

Shall we say, then, that it is in the power of eve* 
vy man to acquire the noble grace of faith by his na- 
tive abilities ? Is not faith the gift of God, and not 
of works lest any man should boast ? The gospel it' 
self affirms they cannot please God who are in the 
flesh. How then shall they, by prayers or tears, or 
utmost fervor, prevail with him to bestow this good 
and perfect gift ? But we need not be under any 
uneasy apprehensions, as though the gospel were im- 
peached, by asserting that a gracious God reveals 
himself to such an impartial enquirer. This will not 
in the least infer the natural power to dot hat which 
is well pleasing in his sight. Nay, it rather confirms 
the doctrine of the fall. For such is the depravity of 
human nature, such the aversion to every divine thing* 
that no man is able to do all which himself allows is 
in the power of his hand. It is only supernatural 
grace which can enable one to exert even his natural 
ability to the utmost, and do with all its might what 
his hand findeth. Happy the man who is thus strength- 
ened from above to search for God with all his heart ! 
I say not that the sovereign God is obliged, is con- 
strained, to confer the blessing of faith. " For, wh# 
hath first given unto him, and it shall be recompensed 
unto him again." But such is his goodness, now that 
he, is in Christ ; such his condescending regards t# 



241 

the sens of men : his ears will not be deaf, his heait 
not siow to give them their importunate requests tor 
things agreeable to his will. When the deist then hab 
exerted himself to the utmost of his confessed abilities, 
{which he cannot do but by the Holy Ghost in a sa- 
ving operation,) let him complain for want of evidence. 
I cannot {Jut think it will bear an orthodox sen3C ? 
what a noted poet says, 

" An honest d 1st, where the gospel shines, 
" Maturld to nobler in the christian ends" 

But, if he is not able to do all he can (which is a 
certain truth, though it sounds hard in Pelagian ears) 
and be unable to believe the gospel, why should his 
unbelief be counted to him for a sin ? For it seems 
he cannot believe till it please God to give him the 
Holy Spirit. Indeed, we are come at last into the 
depths of God, whose way is in the sea ; whose path 
is in the mighty waters ; his footsteps are not known. 
•Perhaps it will not satisfy the refractory understand- 
ing of the haughty deist to tell him, that sovereignty 
may withhold and dispense her favors as she pleases ; 
ami that it is not unjust to punish men for inability, 
when it is of a voluntary kind. Yet right reason will 
attest the first, and conscience the last. 

It is not required that you renounce your reason- 
ing Dowers, O ye unbelievers ! Ye need not turn 
simpletons to be christians ! Faith is no light credu- 
lity ! But when the proposed doctrines are matters 
of everlasting importance, do not belie the Lord, and. 
say it is not he, whether he speaks in the promise or 
in the threatening, merely because they quadrate not- 
with your vicious inclinations, or transcend your shal- 
low apprehensions. Alas ! is the mystery, is the purity 
of ihe gospel, the stumbling-block in your way, which 
ought to prejudice right reason in its favor? But 
when you stop the mouth of conscience, it is just youi? 
reason should mislead you. You are afraid, you are 
unwilling to know, to understand the truth; what- 

w 



242 

ever you pretend ; and therefore you walk on in dark 
»ess; 

If you were the true and genuine sons of reason, 
yon would see the necessity of submitting it to your 

er. if you really had the interests of virtue and 
m >rality at heart, you would willingly see the imper- 
fection of all human righteousness, and the necessity 
of a better than your 'own. If you knew what real 
igoodl and true happiness was, willingly would you be- 
lieve in the eternal reward of blessed life and immor- 
tality. Infidelity is an enemy to wisdom, virtue, and 
felicity. 

Be convinced that you are blind and miserable ! 
Down with your high imaginations I Reflect as yon 
ought, what for a God he is, with whom you have to 
do.! How just and severe, that you may not presume ! 
How merciful and good, that you may not despair !— 
Shall empty honors, swinish lusts, great possessions, 
part you and your Redeemer ? Perhaps there are not 
wanting who would believe on Christ, and gladly he 
saved by him, from misery, but not from sin. If the. 
grace of faith would start up in anight without their 
care or labor ; if they could yawn themselves into 
heaven ; then good and well. But love of sin, and 
love of ease, are inconsistent with striving to enter 
in at the strait gate ; and being followers of them 
who, through faith and patience, now inherit the pro- 
mises. 

Some are not. startled, if eternal vengeance is de- 
nounced against the lawless and disobedient; if against 
murderers ; if against adulterers ; if against blasphe- 
mers; if gainst idolaters. But why, say they, against 
unbelievers ? He thai believeth not, shall be darmud. — 
A hard saving ! who can bear it ! As though un- 
belief were not the worst of murder; that crucifies the 
Lord of glory ; that stabs him to the heart, not in his 
human nature only, bnt in his mediatorial office. As 
though it were not the worst of robberies; that steals 
away from God his most precious Jewel, his glory, 
which he will not give to another: Hie most horrid 
blasphemy, that makes the God of truth a liar. 



243 

Upbraid a miscreant wretch, one of the gallant 
spirits of the age, with lewdness a-nd < ery ; up- 

braid him with his revelling and drunkenness; upbraid 
him with his horrid sweating; — he may p< ear 

you with patience, nor take it in bad part, to have his 
good-humored and fashionable vices thus kindly laid 
before him. But should yon call his sincerity in ques- 
tion ; you Kire nothing, sir, but a villain, a liar, a 
knave : you touch him in a tender point. Roused are 
his resentments. He storms, he rages, he breathes I 
you are in danger of having your throat cut, for the 
insolence of your tongue. Wicked as he is, this foul 
reproach he would willingly wipe away with your 
blood. — Now, shall a puny mortal have such regard to 
Ids character for truth; and will not the holy God, 
who cannot lie, any more than deny himself, render a 
due reward to th cipus sinner, that tells him, 

he is a liar, either in the promise or in the threaten- 
ing ? 

But especially if you reject his testimony con- 
cerning his beloved Son; you pierce him in every 
attribute, as Christ was wounded in every member; 
you touch the apple of his eye; you filch away the 
most splendid gem* of his crown ; you do what, in you 
lies to pluck him from ihe throne of grace, and wipe 
away that precious blood, wherewith the mercy-seat 
is sprinkled ; you pour contempt upon his prime Mes- 
senger; you bring his counsel to nought, and say up- 
on the matter to your Maker, thy gifts be to thyself. 
I see m n the contrivance of thy infinite wis- 

dom. Yoi! declare that Christ hath labored in vain, 
and spent his strength (or nought. — AH this, and no 
more than this, is ihe language of the evii her 
ilieL 

What more shall I say of frz?, thou 
! What sins are not involved in thee only ! — 
What innumerable evils compass thee about, thy con- 
it and inseparable attendants ! Thou art the soul 
which animates the body of sin ; Bee!: 

a ; the-great Antichrist, that in the heart ex 



244 

altest thyself above all that is called God. Tlioil art 
the shield of every sin, and the enemy oi all righteous- 
ness. Whereas other sins are wounds, bruises, and 
putriiying sores; it is thine to cast away the healing 
jdaister. Sooner shall God cease to be true ; cease 
co be just; cease to be God;— than those in whom 
thou reignest shall enter into everlasting rest. 



The different states and ends of the righteous and wicked. 

A Fragment. 

YE sons of men, give ear whilst I relate the dif- 
ferent states, the widely different ends of the righteous 
and the wicked. Who is the blessed man; and where 
shall yon find the possessor of true felicity ? Will 
you call them happy who work iniquity, and greatly 
scorn religion, whether in ifs sacred doctrines, or in 
its distinguished practices ? No; ypu are not happy, 
1 hough feme should sound her trumpet, and honor 
should prepare your way before you ; though -you 
should fill 'your coffers with glittering dust, and swim 
in tides of polluted joys, flow far 5m I from envying 
you, your perishing honors, your winged riches, your 
brutal satisfactions ! But, lo ! the man, the rare and 
despised man, who, far from imitating the pernicious 
example of the sinner, or reducing his hellish devices 
into practice ; who, far from mocking at religion with 
lordly pride, and assuming impudence, will even aban- 
don the society of the wicked, greatly disdaining to 
'make them his bosom friends, or sit in their assembly: 
this is the man who hath found true and perfect felici- 
ty. I will not say he will be blessed, but he is so al- 
ready-. Neither is it in the power of language to ex- 
press, or of my thoughts to represent, this superabun- 
dant blessedness. Blessed shall he be in his immor- 
tal soul, and even his mortal body shall partake of his 
joy. Even in this wretched stale of im perfection, 
even in this vale of tears, he is a happy man, without 



245 

the smiles of fortune ; nor waits he dissolution to be 
blessed. 

Would you know where the exalted delights of 
this uncommon person are pitched, who thus aban- 
dons the society of the wicked, and is not indebted to 
the world for his felicity ? To meditate upon the 
scriptures of truth is his favorite employment, whether 
they point forth unto him the doctrines that are to be 
believed, or the duties that are to be practised, by thy 
authority, thou great Lawgiver, that speakest in every 
part of that hallowed page. Not content with a su- 
perficial knowledge of these sacred contents, he seeks 
to enter into the life and spirit of these heavenly wri- 
tings ; and knowing how rich they are in hidden and 
valuable treasures, he is not wearied in digging for the 
latent truths, whether the cheerful morn purples the 
east, or whether the evening-star lights up his lamp- 
As a tree planted by an industrious man upon 
the verdant banks of a copious unexhausted stream, 
spreads far and wide its watery roots, defies the stor- 
my blasts, and is not much dependant on the clouds, 
of heaven, but in sultry years, and under parched 
skies, fails not, in the proper season, to adorn his 
branches with fruit after his kind, and verdant foliage: 
so, just so, the truly religious man, planted by the di- 
vine hand, along the margin of the sanctuary waters £ 
be shall not be afraid of the wintry blasts of tempta- 
tion, because he shall acquire an unshaken stability ; 
neither shall he be meanly dependant on the variable 
clouds of worldly enjoyments, because he shall, with- 
out them, be maintained in a perpetual moisture. — 
And, therefore, whatever seeming barrenness may for 
a time appear; yet, in the convenient and proper sea- 
son, this tree of righteousness adorns his branches 
with fruits of holiness and consolation* after his kind ; 
the leaves also of his fair and beautiful profession shall 
not be tarnished or fall away. — Success shall crown 
his enterprises; and even when disappointments shall 
betide him, yet in the event it shall appear how all 
things wrought together for his real good, and every 
Action of his hand was truly prosperous* 



Bui as to those who are despisers of the ciiviiie 
word, and arm themselves with honor and insolent 
contempt, and are the workers of iniquity ; they are 
far irom being resembled to this deep rooted and fer- 
tile plant, however considerable in the esteem of 
others, or in their own conceit - r they are but like the 
chatf, which, being light in its own nature, and alto- 
gether unprofitable when separated from the grain, is 
suffered by the careless husbandman to fly abroad, the 
sport of winds, which 3 with the greatest ease ij&agina- 
hie; drive it away, 



me 
GREAT MATTER AND ENB 

OF 

GOSPEL PREACHING, 
A SERMON* 



2 Cor. iv, 5. 
Mor we preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord* 

WHEN you consider the occasion of your pre^ 
lent meeting, it will not, I presume, be necessary to 
make any apology for making choice of this text as 
the ground of discourse. For it is a theme, the con- 
sideration of which, may not only he very suitable to 
my brethren in the ministry, but very profitable to 
every gospel heareiv I am sure, that it is incumbent 
tipon every one that is vested with the sacred charac- 
ter of a minister of Jesus Christ, to join with the aros- 
tle of the Gentiles, in this solemn and serious declara- 
tion, we preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord* 
O that every minister could say it, with the same sin- 
cerity and truth 1 



* This sermon was preached at the ordination of the 
yRev. Mr. Alexander Dick, to be minister of the associate 
congregation of Aberdeen, upon Thursday, Dec. 1, 1758b 



248 

In these "Words, you have the duty and character 
of a preacher of the everlasting gospel exhibited unto 
you, both in negative and positive terms. What 
ought he not to preach ? Himself. What ought he 
then to preach ? Christ Jesus the Lord. Do you not 
observe, that all the three names of our gracious Re- 
deemer are mentioned here? The frequent repetition 
of the lovely titles of this wonderful person, in the 
writings of this apostle, (which, as some observe, is 
as good as five hundred times,) renders them all like 
boxes of precious ointment, inexpressibly refreshful 
to every christian soul. — He is called Christ, to signi- 
fy his unction to the mediatorial offices. For he was 
anointed a priest to procure, a prophet to reveal, and 
a king to apply the blessings of redemption. He is 
called Jesus, because, in the execution of these offices, 
to which he was anointed, he saves his people from their 
>s4ns. This name is pregnant with salvation and 
highly exalted above every other name. — He is called the 
Lord, to denote his true and proper Deity, and his 
sovereign dominion. A very extraordinary Lord in- 
deed is Jesus Christ. He was the Lord of his fore- 
fathers, Luke xx, 44; and is the Lord both of the li- 
ring and the dead. 

But to proceed directly to the subject in view : 
you easily see, that the doctrinal truth we are to de- 
clare from these words must be the following : 
Doct. " That it is the character of every faithful mi- 
nister, and should be the study of every gospel 
preacher, to preach not himself, but Christ Jesus 
the Lord." 
In illustrating this proposition, 1 shall essay. 

I. To enquire into the import of this declaration of 

the apostle, we preach not ourselves, but Christ Je- 
sus the Lord. 

II. To point forth some of the reasons, why it ought 

to be the character and study of every gospel mi- 
nister, not to preach himself, but Christ Jesus the 
Lord, 



24# 

III. Then we sliall see what improvement should be. 

made oi' the doctrine, by making a few obvious 

rejections from what may be said : And these 

things we will do, if God permit. Let us begin 

with the first. 

First. What is imported in the declaration here 
made by the apostle, concerning not only himself, but 
all faithful ministers of the gospel, we preach not our* 
selves, but Christ Jesus the Lord. 

And I shall here content myself with observing 
only two things. 1st It evidently imports that we 
are not to make the inventions of our own brain, but 
the doctrine of Christ, the great matter of our preach- 
ing. 2d. That we are not to make the advancement 
of our own worldly interest and reputation, but the 
glory and honor of Christ, the great end of our minis- 
trations. Favor me with your attention, while we 
endeavor to explain, at some further length, both these 
particulars. And, 

1st. It is as if the apostle had said, " we make 
Christ Jesus the Lord the great matter and theme of 
all our sermons." The minister of Jesus Christ must 
not content himself even with declaring such things 
as have a general truth in them. Things that are 
said may be truth, and yei not the truth, or the word 
of the truth of the gospel. But, though we should be 
far from despising the excellent sentiments of mora- 
lists, or neglecting to preach the duties of the law. 
and inculcate the necessity of personal righteousn^ 
still Christ should be the main argument of eve 
moo. As in a regular building, the most rer- 
of it are supported by the foundation, w' 
it were nothing but a bowing fence, ar 
so, whatever the minister of Jesu** 
fit to insist upon, Christ is his ev< ., 

that imparts to every doctrine sc .isis- 

tence. 

Be is not like your Philosophic 4tarannier y 
whose sermons are generally nothing but st^ffand un- 
affecting declamations on some moral subjects ; who 



250 

waves the peculiar doctrines of Christianity, as dry 
and speculative points, and chooses commonly for his 
theme those topics that are common for all religions. 
You may hear a course of sermons from a person of 
this stamp, without ever learning what is the great 
end of revelation, or how a fallen creature may emerge 
from the ruins of his apostacy. He talks much about 
the beauty of virtue, and how conducive is morality 
to the happiness of mankind, in social and private 
li'e. It is true, he cannot, for shame's cause, altoge- 
ther omit mentioning the name of Christ ; but it is as 
seldom as possible he can : and, lest it should be 
shocking to the polite part of his audience, he com- 
monly veils it under some paraphrase ; calling him 
the sacred author of our religion ; that finished pattern 
of obedience ; or the like. I have read in a famous au- 
thor, " that some have avoided pronouncing 'the 
name of Christ in their discourses, because it is a 
harsh monosyllable, and likewise clogged with too 
many consonants." 

Nor is the gospel minister like your legal de- 
tner t7 whose character it is, to be always inculca- 
ting the duties^ but seldom the privileges of Christiani- 
ty. Instead of making privilege the foundation of du- 
ty, he makes duty the foundation of privilege. It is 
true, he may seem to entertain an abhorrence of the 
before-mentioned philosophical harariguer, and to talk 
in a more baptised and christian style, and pay a 
greater compliment to Christ Jesus the Lord in the 
strain of his discourse : yea, he will even not scruple 
f o tell his hearers, at some times, that they .cannot 
xm rit any thing at God's hand, and that they era do 
nothing; in their own strength ; and therefore we need 
to seek 'the aid of divine grace, for the performance of 
this or the other duty. But, alas! these necessary 
points are so faintly handled, ajid so superficially in- 
sisted on, as to leave but very faint impressions on 
the mind. — Indeed, though he does not openly go over 
to ?he camp of the Roman doctors, : *y crying up the 
merit of good works, and crying down imputed righ- 



251 

ieousness altogether, he is afraid to insist upon the 
opposite Protestant doctrines, except upon some rare 
occasion ; as suppose a person in the agonies of death., 
or under the horrors of conscience. He is always ex- 
horting his hearers to perform duties, but seldom to 
believe. Fie hampers the general gospel call with ab» 
surd conditions, and impossible qualifications ; andj 
turning the gospel into a new law, that prescribes easi- 
er terms of life than the first covenant allowed of, (as 
sincerity, or repentance,) he makes the gospel of Christ 
of none effect: for, indeed, if we should speak accurate* 
ly, the terms of life that are prescribed in the second 
covenant, are so far from being easier than those pre* 
scribed in the first, that, on the contrary, they are in- 
finitely more difficult than ever : for, the redemption of 
the soul is precious, and would have ceased for ever, with- 
out the shedding of blood by a person of infinite dig*' 
nity. 

But the evangelical preacher of Jesus Christ, 
though he should have ever so deep acquaintance with 
the scene* of philosophy, forgets it, when he ascends 
the pulpit to shew unto his hearers the way of salva- 
tion : and, as Aaron's serpent swallowed up the other 
serpents, so does the wisdom of the cross, all other 
\v sdom. The glorious person, the mysterious incar- 
nation, the amazing satisfaction of Christ Jesus the 
Lord, the glories of his exalted state, his mediatorial 
characters, offices, and relations: these are his darling 
themes on which he expatiates with a peculiar de- 
light. — And whether these topics, that have not the 
most immediate relation to Christ, are the subjects of 
Ids discourse ; yet still it may he said of all his ser- 
mons, what the apostle says of christians, of him are ye 
in Christ Jesus : they have no being but in him ; in 
jhim they live and move. Whatever mystery — whate- 
ver privilege — whatever duty he chooses to explain, 
still Christ is all in all. If he insists on a divine 
attribute, he declares how it shines forth in Christ 
with the brightest evidence. — I on a promise, he ex- 
plains how m Christ it is yea, and amen. — If on a com 



252 

maud, he inculcates the necessity of obedience, by 
motives drawn from Jesus Christ; and how impossible 
it is for us to obey, without being first united to him 
as the head of vital influences. Christ is the begin* 
nin? ; Christ is the end ; Christ is the middle ; Christ 
is the all of every sermon. With him, he comforts 
the drooling heart ; with him, he corrects the wander- 
ing transgressor. — To him he can apply these empha- 
tic d words of Jeremiah, Jer. li, 20. " thou art my bat- 
tle-axe, and weapons of war; and with thee will I 
break in pieces the nations, and with thee will I destroy 
kingdoms : and with thee will I break in pieces the 
horse and his rider; and with thee will I break in pie- 
ces the chariot and his rider : and with thee also will I 
break in pieces man and woman ; and with thee will 
I break in pieces also old and young ; and with thee 
will I break in pieces the young man and the mind; 
I will also break in pieces with thee, the shepherd and 
his flock; and with thee will I break in pieces the 
husbandman and his yoke of oxen; and with thee will 
J break in pieces captains and rulers." 

Lest any should think that this charade ' of ma- 
king Christ esus the sole matter of our sermons is 
but chimerical, I shall adduce ihe particular exam- 
ple of this same apostle Paul, in his first e»dstle to the 
Corinthians, chap, ii, 2, " I determined not to know 
an} r thing among you, save >esus Christ, and him 
crucified." What, I beseech you, is the language of 
this ? Is it not a lively confirmation .of the present 
truth ? Fere is a man o! genius, who was educated 
at the ferrous school of Gam i 1 who was well 

acfi^ainted with ihe most eloquent compositions of 
ancient ^oets, oralors, and philosophers. It was in 
his ;:ower to have entertained these Corintliinns with 
fine poetical and philosophical discourses, and have 
droire his wisdom and erudition. " But, 
I ' Ct rinthims, it is not (as i! he had said) your ap- 
pl se ! seek after, but your solvation. Therefore, 
Chri y (heme : Christ Jesus in his ins^o- 

rions cross," Some, indeed, might have been apt to 



253 

reply, c: truly, Paul, this subject, of a eraeified Christ, 
may do indifferently ^KfeU to preach about in some ob- 
scure country village, where the people are not great 
judges of refined sentiment ; but when you come to a 
polite city, like Corinth, what harm would there he, 
though you should wave vguy favorite topic of the 
cross, and give the polite citizens some display of your 
fine taste and universal learning; for, we assure you, 
sach a doctrine as that will never take in a place iike 
this. — Take it to second thoughts, and deliberate up- 
on it, whether this would not be the most prudent me- 
thod." " Nay," says the' apostle of the Gentiles, " I 
will deliberate no more on such a subject; I am quite 
£t a point about it. It is not rudeness ; I could do 
otherwise. It is not rashness; 1 have deliberately 
and peremtorily resolved ; and my -esolutions never 
Bhall be shaken, that I dwell on no other subject, 
oven in your line city of Corinth, but Jesus Christ and 
him crucified" — So much for the first thing imported 
in preaching, " not ourselves, but Christ Jesus the 
Lord," namely, that we are' to make the doctrine of 
Christ the great matter of our preaching. 

2:7. It is, as if the apostle had said, " we make 
Hot the advancing our worldly interest and reputation, 
but the honor and glory of Christ the great end of our 
ministration." For it is a very melancholy truth, 
there are persons who may have the glorious Redee- 
mer for the matter of their sermons, even when they 
are not in the least swayed by regard to his gjery and 
honor; but are solely animated by sordid interest and 
groveling pride. A person of this character preaches 
himself, even when he preaches Christ. Though 'he 
seems to make as if he wanted his hearers should be 
in love with his Lord and Master, yet, he chiefly in- 
tends they should admire himself. When he com- 
poses his sermons, he is more solicitous how he shall 
touch the passions, please the fancy, and tickle the 
ears of his hearers, than how to instruct, than how t<* 
persuade, than how to break the heart, and espouse 
?he sinner t& Christ,— Thst he may be esteemed a 

x 



254 

man of learning:, it is ordinary^for him (<• eloud hie 
meaning with strange words^jpftrt which ihe ears of 
the common people are not accustomed ; and how ve- 
ry often mistake that which is wonderfully dark, for 
wonderfvtWy deep And that he may be reputed a man 
Qi pi-ttf he finds himself under a necessity of counter- 
feiting those devout a flections to which he is an entire 
stranger, Pride chooses his subjects, invents his or- 
B&ments, and animates his delivery. What he ig 
chiefly desirous to know, when the sermon is over, is 
not what benefit his hearers have reaped* hut what 
are their sentiments about himself. If he gain the ap- 
plause, and is extolled to the skies, as no ordinary 
man, his em\ is reached, and he blesses himself in his 
fancied superiority unto others. But, if he shall un- 
dersiattd that they consider him as but an indifferent, 
ordinary preacher, he is extremely mortified, being 
disappointed in his principal aim. 

How unlike unto this is the character of the ser- 
vant of Jesus Christ, who is constrained by his love, 
and is willing that he should increase, himself should 
decrease ? He chooses for the ground of his sermons 
those subjects which will give him the best opportu- 
nity for recommending Christ Jesus the Lord, rather 
th.n of ingratiating himself with the world, or dis? 
playing his own abilities. He does not clothe his 
ideas in strange words and unusual language, that he 
may he admired by the ignorant ; but he chooses 
such expressions as are common and intelligible to 
every one, rather than high-flown expressions that are 
n >t generally understood. For, as Augustine says 
" an iron key that can open a treasure, is preferable 
to a golden one not. fitted for the purpose." 

He does not affect new and unheard-of ways of 
speaking, to illustrate the commonly received doc- 
trines of the blessed gospel ; but he will even abstain 
from those phrases that are capable of a dexterous in- 
terpretation, if they are offensive to weak christians, 
lie is e'-er seeking to adapt himself to persons of 
common rank and capacity ; " not many wise men, 



255 

mot many mighty, not many noble are called ;" and 
he never discovers in his air, looks, and gesture, con- 
tempt and high disdain of those whom he pretends to 
instruct. If he should happen to win the applause of 
the common people, he rejoices not greatly ia it ; and 
if he miss of their applause, it " is a small matter to 
Iiim to be judged of man's judgment j he that judgeth 
him is the Lord." 

Though the faithful minister of Jesus Christ will 
not affect a slovenly way of preaching, and descend 
to low familiarities of diction, taking his images and 
metaphors from the low and sordid occurrences of 
life, at the same time he does not hunt after a pomp- 
ous and gaudy diction, or what is styled by this apos- 
tle, " the enticing words of man's wisdom." I would 
not he thought from this observation, to cry down 
all study in a minister to find out acceptable words ; 
indeed, to preach the Lord Jesus Christ with true 
eloquence, is not inconsistent with the greatest hu- 
mility. 

We cannot sufficiently admire the eloquence of (he 
scripture. There is nothing in Homer himself that cm 
rival the sublimity of the song of Moses, the majesty of 
Isaiah, the tenderness of Jeremiah, or the loftinessof Da- 
vid. And then the herd-man Amos is justly considered 
by Augustine, in his book of christian doctrine, £s a 
great pattern of lofty expression. Nor is this peculiar 
to the writings of the Old Testament ; the most sim- 
ple writers of the New Testament want not vecy 
fine strokes of eloquence. So much did the apostle 
Paul excel in this, that he was actually taken for Mer- 
euriiis, the god of eloquence, when he was in the town 
of Lyst: 

But, permit me here to lay down two necessary 
cu.'iofrs to all the admirers of human eloquence in 
igeiical discourses. 1. That the efficacy of the 
nine must never be ascribed to it. There are too 
many who allow of no other energy in the word tut 
the moving of the affections by a pathetic orator ; 
while the invisible and irresistible operation of the di- 



256 

i 

vine Spirit is altogether forgotten and despised. " But 
though Paul should plant, and Apollos should water, 
it is God alone that gives the increase." Thus though 
sokliers should burnish their armor, yet, in the day of 
battle, they will not wound their enemies because 
they glitter upon the day, but because they are of 
strong and solid temper. 2. There is a false rhetorie 
that men are very apt to mistake for the true. FeP, 
it is not every person that can till a discourse with 
crowded similies, forced conceits, bombastic phrases, 
jingling quibbles, swelling sentences, — who may im- 
mediately lay claim to the character of " Apollos, au 
eloquent man, and mighty in the scriptures." The 
windows that are most daubed with paint give not the 
greatest light ; and the tree3 that are most covered 
wiih leaves bear not always the greatest quantity of 
fruit : in like manner, these discourses that are adorn- 
ed with the greatest profusion of ornaments, are not 
always the most informing or fruitful. 

Sermons that are composed and delivered in this 
false taste, may be known by one of these two marks ; 
either they are heard with contempt and disdain, or 
they serve only to fill the hearers' minds with admiratiou 
of i\\Q speaker ; but not at all to inspire with the sen- 
timents he would inculcate. 

To conclude this observation ; the minister of 
Jesus Christ, who preaches not himself, considers elo- 
quence, and the' gospel* as the gift and the altar. It 
was not the gift that sanctified the altar, but the altar 
that sanctified the gift : so, it is not eloquence that 
^riciiiies the gospel, but the gospel that sanctifies. 
It 

Having finished what I intended, on the first 
head of this discourse, which was to enquire into the 
import of Paul's declaration here, we preach not o» r* 
selves, but Christ Jesus the Lord, I will now proceed to 
enquire, 

II. What may be the reasons why every minister 
of Jesus Christ should make him the great matter $tn& 
end of all his sermons, ,And, 



Vir&i, £s to the reasons why lie should be the great 
.T7ER of oaf sermons. As I said before, .we are Ye- 
vy far from despising rational and moral truths, which 
are excellent in their own nature, and which it may 
be very profitable for a gospel-minister to be acquaint- 
ed with. The duties of the law are also to he preach- 
ed, as we said before. But lei philosophy, let morali- 
ty beware how they usurp that room which belongs 
not unto them. Let them shine in their own firma- 
ment ; but let them not presume to aspire to a higher 
dignity than they are originally destined unto. Let not 
this Reuben seek to ascend his father's bed, lest he lose 
his excellency. Let not this Hazar presume to Lord il 
over her mistress, lest she be cast cut. Let not this 
woman (philosophy) though extremely talkative, 
lk in the church. For, if we make philosophical 
disquisitions the subject of our sermons, instead ot 
Christ, then, 

(].) This is a high indignity to him who is the 
foundation of ail our hones, and our gracious deliverer 
from misery and siu. O how dishonorable to Christ, 
to esteem any truth more, as it comes from Cicero 3 
Epietetus, or Marcus Aatonius, than as it comes from 
Ihe great prophet of the world ! It is a notable effect 
of the atheistical pride of men, who pretend to incul- 
cate obedience unto God, to betake themselves to 
other rules and directions, as more plain, more fu : l^ 
more efficacious, than those of the gospel, which are 
the teachings of Christ himself. Row reproachful is 
it to Christianity, for- a pretended preacher of it, to pre- 
fer those topics that are common to it with all other 
religions, to these by which it is peculiarly distin- 
guished from them ! " Do you thus requite the Lord. 
foolish and unwise f y 

(2.) As it is the height of shameful ingratitude^ 
so it is utterly unprofitable to the hearers ; for the great 
end of preaching never can be reached by such dis- 
courses. The philosophical haran&uer can neither iigr 
form the judgment, nor affect the heart. 

3 2 



258 

Be cannot inform the judgment ; even the tr: 
he teaches mc not satisfactory to the mind, when se- 
parated from Christ, who is the true light, that en- 
lightens tta every man that cometh into the world.— 
In Christ alone, all the lines of truth do centre. In 
Mm only they have a firm consistence. If truth is 
iiot learned, eis it is in Jesus, the mind remains in mid* 
night darkness ; and. after a long course of attendance, 
on such instructions, one may he as ignorant as a 
lie:ithen in the knowledge of salvation. Who knows 
not how the great masters of philosophy have lost 
themselves in endless disputes about the nature of 
mor: lily and moral obligation ? And what is the 
reason ; they scorn the aid of revelation, which would 
ftirnish them an easy solutienjo many perplexing ques- 
tions. " Professing themselves r to be wise, they be- 
came fools." — Truly if you take Christ out of the bi- 
ble, the bible itself will be but an inconsistent compo- 
sition ; and we could no more expect to derive from 
it the satisfactory knowledge of any divine truth what- 
soever. The blindness of the modern Jews, bears 
witness unto this : who, though they have the scrip- 
tures of the Old Testament among their hands : yet, 
not finding Christ in them, they are almost as ab- 
surd in their doctrinal system, as the very heathens 
themselves. 

Be cannot affect the heart; for, as professors of 
religion, that have no union with Christ, are but 
withered branches ; so truths, even of relinion^ when 
separated from him, are but dry and sapless specula- 
tions. Christ is the fountain of truth ; and when wa- 
ter is separated from the fountain, it will soon gather 
putrefaction, and turn into a puddle. If any should 
be of the mind, that to reform the world, the hesl way 
would be, to preach the moral truths, and leave out 
the peculiar doctrines of Christianity from our sei- 
mohs ; I beseech them seriously to consider the fol- 
Jc i inff queries. If such discourses are the most ha- 
bile means of reforming the world ; why did not the 
great moralist of the Gentiles reform the world?— 



259 

Yea, vrhy did they net reform themselves from the 
gross irregularities of their own lives, y reducing 
their own refined notions into practice ? Why did 
the apostles m tke a crucified Christ the theme of their 
sermons? Why did they not rather preach thr vr at 
T)cauty of virtue ; the Treat dimity of human nature ? — 
Then would the offence of the cross have ceased :-=— 
then would they not have suffered persecution. Was 
it by preaching of mora! truths, the apostles captiva- 
ted the world to the obedience of faith, trium hed 
over their inveterate prejudices, their deep rooted 
lusts, and vicious propensities ? Was it thus they 
laid the axe to the root, that wickedness might be 
broken as a tree ? Was it thus they prevailed against 
the emaeror's sword, and the wit of the philosopher? 
No, surely. The world was not reformed by moral 
haranrguers in the days of the apostles ; and have we 
any reason to conclude, that such discourses will be 
more successful in our days ? On the contrary ; is 
there not abundant reason to think, that God, who is 
jealous of his [Mediator's glory, will not bless such 
sermons with success ? 

Let me here then address every such preacher, 
in the words of a modern author : " Had you all the 
refined science of Plato and Socrates, and all the 
skill of morals attained unto by Zeno, Seneca, or 
Epic t etas : were you furnished with all the flowing 
oratory of Cicero, and the thunder of Demosthenes: 
were all these talents united in one man, and you the 
person so richly endowed; and could you employ 
them in every sermon you preach, you could have no 
reason to hope that you could convert or save one 
soul, while you leave the gospel entirely out of your 
discourses." Such preachers can neither save them- 
selves, nor them that hear them. And as they are 
" walking in the light of their own fire, and in sparks 
that they have kindled;" is there not ground to fear, 
that "this shall they have at the hand of God ? they 
ihtfl lie down in sorrow. — my soul, come not thou 
ia.U) their secret 5 be not united unto their assembly •" 



260 

Poo? will be the compensation, and pitiful tlie te* 
ward of those preachers, who leave out Christ in then* 
sermons, to be complimented by unbelievers as men 
of distinguished parts and superior abilities : for, though 
they gained the applause of iniidels, " what is their 
hope, when God taketh away their soul ?" 

And what we have said of the philosophical haran- 
giier^ we may also affirm of the le^al detiainm\ who 
inculcates the precepts of the law, without pointing 
forth Jesus Christ as " the end of the law for righteous- 
ness." Though indeed, in the law, righteousness is 
revealed; yet the gospel is the only ministration of it. 
The law may demand righteousness, but the gospel 
eon'ers it. When the law comes, the soul may in- 
dee! die, but sin revives; but when the gospel comes, 
the soul revives, and sin dies. It was not without a 
mystery, that Moses could not lead the chosen seed 
into the promised land; for, though the natural force 
of the law is not abated, (as it is said of Moses,) " it ig 
become weak through the flesh to give life ;" and it iff 
the province of Jesus Christ alone, (the true Joshua,) 
to give us rest. 

To conclude, then; this is the sum of what I 
have said : " Suppose a minister should come forth, 
armed with all the literature of the schools, and all 
the thunders of Sinai, he will be but like David in 
Saul's armor, unable to do any execution; neither 
will he work any salvation in the earth. — But Christ 
Jesus the Lord, like the small stone taken out of the 
brook of the scriptures, lights with a vengeance into 
the forehead of every high thing that would defy the 
armies of the living God." 

2d. I will now say a few things about making 
Christ Jesus the Lord, the great end of our ministry. 
And I cannot sufficiently express the great iniquity, 
absurdity, and danger of having no other end in our 
preaching, but to advance our own interest, or g^in 
the applause of men. 

Consider, (1.) how great a sin it is. Is it thiMP 
Tte resemble " the meek aud lowly Jesus, who sought- 



mi 

act his own glory, but iiis that seat him ?" Is.it ihu* 
we requite the condescending Savior, "who made 
himself of no reputation," by snatching at the honors 
belonging to him alone ? Indeed, where pride and 
self are wholly predominant, it argues a little grovel- 
ing soul, destitute of the grace of God. Neither is it 
in the power of any person, who is wholly influenced 
by them, to do so much as one hour's faithful service 
unto God. 

(2.) Consider, that the folly is equal to the sin. 
For, pride and self are vices which very commonly 
have the peculiar happiness of disappointing their 
own schemes. Alas ! if pride is our sovereign princi- 
ple, if applause is our ultimate end, how miserably 
will we be disappointed ? Fame is a shadow ; if you 
pursue it, it will fly. Fame is a bubble; if you grasp 
it, it will break. — Fuil often the ambitious preacher 
stands coafest to the discerning christian ; and, in- 
stead of the vain-glory he is so passionately fond of, 
he meets with that contempt which he so richly de- 
serves. For this love of fame, or desire of vain-glory, 
like the ointment of the right hand, betrayeth itself, 
For, there is something of that genuine simplicity in. 
the voice, air, and gesture of him who is anim. ted by 
the love of Christ, which the false pretender cannot 
imitate by his utmost art. Hence it is very ordinary 
for such a preacher, to seem to be all in raptures, 
when his audience is not in the least aflected. For, 
he throws out his vehemency at very improper places, 
and without discretion, which renders him extremely 
contemptible. 

(3.) Consider, lastly, the dangerous consequence.?, 
both to minister and people, that may attend upon 
such a method of preaching as this. Ft is not at ail 
to be supposed, that a minister of this ambitious turn 
of mind will be countenanced of God in the discharge* 
of bis ministerial function, seeing he resitfeih the pr&ud* 
And though he should be so far assisted, by the com- 
mon influences of the Spirit, as to acquit himself in 
the external duties, of bis office, to the approbation 



262 

men ; yea, though his labors should he crowned witfc 
success, in converting and edifying the heaters; yet 
sure I am, it is not at all so probable that this will be 
the case, as if he were of the contrary temper ; for, he 
gives Trace unto the humble. 

But let us farther suppose, that he should be uni- 
versally esteemed among men, and his labors crowned 
with more than ordinary success ; yet still he cannot 
be approved of God, nor be entitled unto that glorious 
reward provided for his faithful servants, who u serve 
him with their spirits, in the gospel of his Son." How 
shall proud ministers enter these blest abodes, where 
proud angels could not stay ? 

But, on the other hand, when a minister of the 
gospel has it for his undivided aim, to advance the ho- 
nor of his glorious Lord and Master; such is the good- 
ness of God, that he will not ordinarily suffer his re- 
putation to sink, even among men ; for this is his de- 
termined method of procedure, in the general course 
of providence, that " he that hurnbJeth himself oh.ill 
be exalted." And though his labors should not prove 
so successful as could be wished, or though Israel be 
not gathered, yet will he be glorious in the eyes of 
the Lord. 

III. A few obvious reflections, or inferences, 
from what hath been said, shall shut up this discourse. 
And, 

1st. We may be informed, whence it comes 
about, that the public state of religion atnongst us, is 
at such a low pass, in the day and time wherein our 
lot is cast. O Lord, said the devout sister of Mary, if 
thou hadst been here, my brother had not died, John xi, 
21. So may I say, " hadst thou, O Lord, been in the 
sermons of our modern preachers, there would not 
have been so many dead souls in our congregations ; 
and so many on the very brink of giving up the ghost." 
It is reported, there are seen in the mines, a kind of 

ts or fairies who imitate real workmen, and seem 

-y busy in every part of (heir work : but, ale: 

ail, there is nothing done. These beings, whether 



263 

jpeal or imaginary, are but too just emblems of all 
prt chers who leave Christ Jesus the Lord out of their 
era borate compositions. Let them be ever so busy, 
they are busy about nothing. 

I have no intention to insult over any person 
"whatsoever; nor to depress any order of men, with a 
view to raise the character oi a particular party. Let 
such unworthy views be far removed from us. But, is 
it not a melancholy truth ? (sorry should we be there 
is so much ground for saying it,) is it not a melancho* 
]y truth, I say, that too many preachers of our time 
have not the Lord Jesus, either for their matter or end? 
Is not he the stone rejreted by the builders, though he . 
be the head of the corner ? Are there not many 
preachers who are perhaps better versed in classic au- 
thors than in the holy scriptures ? 

Polite apostates from God's grace, to wit. 

How much reason to fear, lest a pretended ra^ 
fional religion hath obtained among us ; little different 
from deism, and having scarce any relation to Christ 
Jesus the Lord ? Some publish philosophical inqui- 
ries and moral disquisitions, and call them sermons : 
Into what times are we fallen ! — And even the more 
serious part of the ministry are b«ii too much sir ti- 
gers, in many places, to the evangelical method of 
winning souls to Christ. " For Moses hath" (I will 
not say in every synagogue, but) " in many syna- 
gogues, them that preach him, every sabbath-day." — - 
As in the days of this apostle, the two great competi- 
tors with the doctrine of Jesus Christ, were, the phi- 
losophy of the Gentiles, and the ceremonies of the 
Jews; so, in the days wherein we live, his two great 
rivals seem to be, " the boasted light of nature, and 
the imperfect works of the law." 

And will it not require an extraordinary charity 
for us to think of many preachers in our day, that 
they have the glory of Christ, and the salvation of 
*©uls tor their great end, who will intrude themselves 



264 

tipon reclaiming congregations, in flat contradiction 
to all the principles, both of religion and generosity ? 
What can be more evident from the word of God, 
than that it is the province of the church-members, to 
elect and nominate her own officers ? Acts vi, 6.~ 
We read, indeed, of the centurion who built the Jews 
a synagogue : but not that he acied as a patron, to pre- 
sent a teacher unto it, though he might have pleaded 
a power of doing it upon a better foundation than any 
modern patron. Yea, is it not an encroachment upon 
the very rights of mankind, and the liberties of a free 
people? You may, indeed, choose your lawyer, or 
your physician, hut not your minister : No ; this be- 
longs to the patron of the parish, no matter whether 
he be a heretic, or a. profane person, or a bitter enemy 
of the church : if he has money enough to purchase 
this right of presenting, no other qualification is requi- 
site in the least. Perhaps be has some friend to grati- 
fy ; and therefore he authoritatively presents a person 
yon never saw, nor heard of, or a person whom you 
Tvould not willingly take for your pastor- But, if you 
mutter or reclaim, then you must he held for a sedi- 
tious or schismatic* \ set of men, that can be pleased 
with nothing. Alas ! how shall a patron be a proper 
judge of the person who is to take the charge oi my 
soul, when there are too many patrons that have no 
concern for their own souls. 

Pardon me, if I say, that it is a custom shocking 
to common sense, as well as die metrical!^ opposite to 
the rules of the word of God. And whether it has 
ever tended to promote religion, peace, and unity in 
the church, let exi^eneyice declare and testify. 

I know indeed, there is a very strong exception, 
to all we have said on this head, which is considered 
by very many, as an irrefragable argument for compli- 
ance with the present method of settling vacant con- 
gregations. And it is this : " That the settling of 
congregations by presentations is aecofijjng to I 
;md "there is no other way of obtaining a settlement^ 

by accepting a presentatioisu Indeed, this argw- 



235 

at is so convincing, that I would not so ranch as 
attempt to make any ftply, were I also convinced^ 
that religion is a thing merely political, and that we 
need not pay any regard to the roles of the word, ex- 
i:i so far as they comport with a present civil ad- 
mi nistrat ion.* But the argument happens unluckily 
« lo enervate itself, by proving more than is ne- 
cessary. — For, it would also prove, that the p!ea( 
of the Jews, in another case, was strong and valid; 
li we have a law, and by our law he oilght to die." — 
And here a large field might be opened for just infec- 
tives, against those persons, who with their utmost 
■ ornate this antichristian usurpation, and yet 
are always declaring against divisive courses: though 
nothing can be more evident, than that they them- 
selves are taking ail possible methods to vvnd and di- 
vide the poor church : yet they will not take with the 



* It is not hereby in 'aided in the least to distil 
loyal principles into the minds of any, or to foment d\ 
fection to the present civil government. Every body knows* 
that the prrsens who c \ of patronages ', as a griev- 

ance, are as firm friends to his majesty ', and the protcs- 
tout succession, as any subjects whatsoever. Tea,' it is 
very well known that the yoke of patronage was wreathe'} 
about the neck of this cluirch, at a time when the stats* 
ministry-inclined to Jacohitisni, in the latter end of queen 
Anne's reign, in resentment to the zcetl for the Hanoveri- 
an family, which was shewed, at that time, hy the church 
of Scotland : of this his late majesty kino- George I. wasr 
so sensible, that when application mas mad" for a redress 
of this grievcm.ee, an act was passed, in the year 1719, 
making the presentee's acceptance necessary io the validi- 
ty °f th? preservative. And if it had not been for those 
men, who acted such a mean part, as to snatch at presen* 
wherever they could obtain them, without the hast 
ird to the inclinations of the' people, this church had 
, ly that favorable act, restored to their former pri- 



ilegc. 



«?- 



286 

rii3rc;e in the least, but raise a hideous noise of schism 
and division against such as adhere o those princi- 
ples, w hich are presently professed and authorised by 
the fundamental laws of this land. 

But If t us rather talk of this ungrateful subject in 
the style of lamentation. " O Lord, thou hast reject- 
ed and scattered us ; thou hast been justly displeased : 
return unto us, O God." How deplorable is it, that 
ibis enormous grievance, so heavily complained of by 
the greatest part of serious ministers and people in 
this national church ; and even inconsistent with the 
very \uni\\mPA\td\ articles of the union of the two na- 
tions,* should not only be patiently submitted unto by 
the prevailing party in our judicatories ; hut consider- 
ed by them, rather as a privilege, than a burden, 
Do we not seem to be in love with our fetters ? How 
easy were it for our judicatories, quite to enervate the 
patronage act, if they had a mind so to do, by prohi- 
biting the accepting of presentations, which no law*; 
presently in being, forbids to be done ? How have 
our " hands 1 made the snares wherewith we are 
caught ?' ? Is there not abundant reasons to think 
that God is saying, " I will not return to my place, 
until they acknowledge their iniquity ?" 

Lastly, You that are gospel hearers and fellow- 
christians may also be informed, from the doctrine we 
have taught, what should be your aim, in your atten- 
dance upon divine ordinances. As it should be our 
great design, to preach Christ ; so it is yours to learn 



# In the act passed by tlu Scotch parliament, 1 6th 
Jan. 1707, ratified by the English parliament, March 
~tk, ensuing, it is enacted, "that the true protectant reli- 
gion, as presently professed within this kingdom, with the 
worship, discipline, and government of this church, should 
continue without alteration in all succeeding generations." 
Now, it is evident the settling of kirks by presentations, 
contrary to the will of the people, was a very material aU 
Uratimin the government of the church* 



267 

Christ Though the minister should preach Christ 
ever so much ; unless you learn Christ, you do what 
lies in your power to make him labor in vain, and 
spend his strength tor nought. Alas ! for the unpro- 
fitable, negligent, and wanton hearing of the word, 
that prevails at this day an*i time ! Christ Jesus the 
Lord is the great subject of our sermons ; and a noble 
theme he is, indeed, to expatiate upon. In his name, 
and by his authority, we preach to you the gospel of 
your salvation : and, wo ! wo unto us, if we have not 
his glory for our ultimate end ; if it is only your ap- 
plause we are seeking after. Yet, are there not many 
hearers, who come to hear the minister preach ; not 
as though he were to preach Christ, but as though he 
were to preach himself? It is not, that they may be 
acquainted with the Christ, whom the minister 
preaches ; but that they may be acquainted with the 
minister that preaches him ; that they may know 
what he will say upon such a subject ; and how he 
will acquit himself upon such an occasion. 

But, my brethren, if we are what we profess to 
t>e, it is neither your applause we are courting, nor do 
we dread your censure, in the faithful discharge of 
that ministry we have received of the Lord, to fulfil 
it ; and if you do not learn Christ Jesus, and the truth 
as it is in him, though you should commend us ever 
so much, it will be but a poor compensation of our la- 
bors. We beseech you, therefore, to forget us alto- 
gether, and to consider principally the message we 
bring ; for truly it is " worthy of all acceptance : — for 
we preach Christ Jesus the Lord," as the only all-suf- 
ilcient Savior, every way adapted to your need, what- 
soever you are. Art thou & foolish sinner? We 
:c preach Christ Jesus the Lord, as made of God, unto 

you, wisdom" Art thou a guilty sinner ? We 

; preach Christ Jesus the Lord, as made of God, uuto 
you, righteousness" — Art thou an unholy and pollnt d 
sinner ? We " preach Christ Jesus the Lord, as made 
of God, unto you, sanctification" — Art thou a misera* 
Me and captive sinner ? , We " preach Christ Jesus 



the Lord, as made of God, complete redemption."— 
An thou a hard hearted sinner ? We " preach Christ 
Jesus the Lord, a Prince and Savior, exalted to give 
»nto you repentance" — Art thou a diseased sinner? 
1-e " preach Christ Jesus the Lord, as the Balm in 
Gilead, and the Physician there." — Art thou a dead 
mul lifeless sinner ? We " preach Christ Jesus the 
Lord, as the remrredion and the Iffe" — Sinners of 
©Wry nation of the world ; of every station of life ; of 
e e v sex and age ; sinners of eyevy size and temper ; 
sre " preach Christ Jesus the Lord," as God's great 
ordinance tor jour salvation. 

And we testify and declare, that if any of yoii 
shall perish, it shall not be for want of a Savior. — And 
if you will not hear, but will despise this Christ Jesus 
the Lord, whom we preach, saying, " how shall this 
man save us?" then he it at your peril; for, " how 
shall ye escape, if you neglect so great salvation ?"— ~ 
And whether you embrace the Savior or not, know 3 
that the election shall obtain : -" As many as are or-, 
dained to eternal life, shall believe, and purify their 
heart in obeying, the truth, through the Spirit. — Ye. 
see your calling, brethren; how that not many wise, 
after the flesh ; not many mighty, not many nolle, 
are called. But God hath chosen the foolish things 
of the world, to confound the wise. Be hath choseu 
the weak things of this world, to confound the things 
that are mighty ; the ease things of the world, and 

s that are despised, hath God chosen; yea, and 
things which are not to bring to nought things that 
are ; thai no flesh should glory in his presence.— Fov 
we preach Christ Jesus the Lord; to the Jews a stum- 
b]ing»blof$k, and to the Greeks, foolishness : hut to 
them that are c tiled, both Jews and Greeks, Christ, 
fcfee power of God, and the wisdom of God." 

the charge to the minister. 
Dear 

THE work and office to which you are now se- 
parated and called, to serve God in the gospel of kk 



269 

Son, as a minister and a witness, is indeed ver j great 
and important. According to the judgment of an 
apostle; "who is sufficient for these things?" 2 Cor. 
ii, 16. "but your sufficiency is of God," and your re- 
ward is with him.— I shall suggest bat a very few 
things unto you, relative to your deportment in thai; 

eter wherewith you are now clothed. And, " I 
beseech you to suifer the word of exhortation," which 

[re also to take to myself. 

First of all, I would say unto yon; let it be your 
resolution* with the apostle, to "preach not yourself, 
hut Christ Jesus ihe Lord." — "Make* the peculiar doc- 
trines of Christ, jour great theme. Let the blessed 
Jes s live upon your lips, and reign in all your minis- 
trations. Though profane wits should sccIl, and call 
y hi bubbler, still let your sermons he a saver of Christ 
in every place. This lovely name will add unto 
ihem an ornament of grace. This, dear brother, will 
,:r lips like "lilies, dropping sweet-smelling 
myrrh." O what a noble theme hare veto enlarge 
upon ! a theme not unworthy of angels and arch-an- 
gels. Even these glorious beings desire to pry into 
the profound mysteries of revelation. Christ is the 
it suhjeet of the scriptures; why should he not be 
the great subject of our sermons ? The scrriptures are 
the ring; Christ is the diamond. The scriptures are 
ihe circle ; Christ is the centre. The scriptures are 
the field; Christ is the treasure \£& in that field 1 * The 
scriptures are the box ; Christ is the spikenard. The 
scriptures are the building; Christ is the foundation. 
The scriptures are the body ; Christ is the soul. — 
What is the Old Testament, hat Christ ccnccalcd? — 
What is the New Testament, bat Christ revealed? — - 
Make ihe glory of Christ your great end. Seek not 
your own glory, but the glory of him that sent you. — 
You have Christ for your example. If any viper of 
pride should fasten upon our hand, let us speedily 
shake it olf by repentance and deep abasement. O 
how vain is the breath of popular applause ! how soon 
will the mom-iiianj buzz of renown expire and ceaae-r 
when our rest together shall be in the dustt 

? 2 



270 

A?id {hat you may " preach Christ Testis ihe 
"Lord, with the greater success; seek to maintain 
fellowship with him, and to taste, yourself, the sweet- 
ness of the divine truths concerning: him you are to 
declare unto your hearers. When his name shall be 
as oiidtmnt gcured forth unto your own soul, with what 
raptures oi delight, will you spread it abroad unto 
others ! O ! did we have the thorough persuasion, 
the suitable impression of the truths we deliver ; how 
would heavenly eloquence flow from our tongue !— - 
*' For, out of the abundance of the heart the mouth 
speaketh." Would we follow the direction which 
this maxim of our Lord would hint unto us, I have of- 
ten thought it would be a better way to attain the 
perfection of eloquence, than by a strict attend- 
ance to the precepts of the greatest masters of elo- 
cution. 

Ent I must not forget, likewise to put you in 
mind, that you are to preach by your life, as well as 
by your doctrine. It is not sufficient, we give God 
your tongue ; for he says, " my son, give me thine 
heart." Let your life be a commentary on what you 
preach. Endeavor, not only to avoid all just censure- 
as much as possible ; " but let your conversation be 
adorned with whatsoever things are holy ; whatsoe- 
ver things are lovely ; whatsoever things are of good 
report. Let your light so shine before men, that oth- 
ers, saving your good works, may glorify your heaven- 
ly Father ; and those of the contrary part may be 
ashamed, when they speak evil of you falsely for his 
name's sake. Be thou an example to the believers, in 
word and conversation, in charity and spirit, in faith 
and purity. I give the charge in the sight of God, 
that thou keep this commandment without spot, unre- 
bukable, until the appearing of our Lord Jesus Christ : 
and when the chief shepherd shall appear, you 
atinll receive a crown of glory that fadeth not a- 



271 

TITB ADVICE TO THE CONGREGATION, 

I WILL now say a few things to you, my bretn* 
ren, of this congregation, touching the duties you owe 
unto your pastor, who is, I hope, the Lord's anointed 
unto you. You have, tins day, seen with your eyes, 
his solemn separation to the work of the ministry ; and, 
I trust, it is the answer of many prayers lodged at a 
throne of grace, in hehalf of this event. " Receive him 
therefore in the Lord, with all gladness." And if you 
would really profit under the ordinances dispensed by 
hind, I offer you the following advices : " yet not L, 
but the Lord." 

First of all. See that you love, esteem, and re- 
verence your minister. It is natural for us to heark- 
en to the instructions of those we love and value ; 
while on the other hand, we are prejudiced against 
the best instructions of a person who is the object of 
our contempt or hatred. Be assured of it> your edifi- 
cation is at an end, when you cease to reverence and 
love him. It has pleased the spirit of God to adorn 
the ministers of the word with very distinguishing and 
honorable epithets. They are the " stewards of the 
mysteries of God ; the lights of the world ; the salt of 
the earth ; the angels ; the fathers ; the overseers ; 
the rulers of the church ; the ambassadors of God and 
©f Christ. Let a man, therefore, so account of them, 
and esteem them very high in love, for their works? 
sake." I do not say that all persons, of whatsoever 
character, are to be esteemed and reverenced, if they 
have the name of ministers; for, if they be unjust 
stewards, extinguished lights, unsavory salt, fallen an- 
gels, unnatural fathers, negligent bishops, tyrannical 
rulers, and treacherous ambassadors, " God's soul 
loihes them, and their soul also abhors him," Zach. 
xi, 8 ; nor do his people owe them reverence. — Eut in 
so far as your minister acts up to those sacred cbai me- 
ters (which, I hope, he will, through grace, be enabled 
to do) you owe unto him not only civil honor, Hit a 
religious respect ; and " he that despiseth : despisclb 
J|£t maa : but God," 



In the ne^t place, submit yourselves Unto your 
felinisfe , itid o* ey them that have the rule over you; 
for, they " v itch lor your souls, as they tfcat must give 
an account; that they may do it with joy, and not 
frith grief, lor that is unprofitable for you." Be not 
as them that lay snares lor " him that reproveth in 
the gate, and make a man an offender for a word." — 
When you repair to the place of the holy, let it he your 
resolution to u hear what the Lord will speak." Do 
Hot merely propose to amuse and divert yourselves ; 
hut submit your consciences to the power of the word. 
Though ihe authority of church-officers, as the ambus- . 
sabers of Christ, is sneered at by some in these times* 
yet if is certain there can be no proa table hearlag* 
Without a due regard unto it. When, like the hearers 
of Paul, you receive your Minister as an angel of 
God, and even as Jesus Christ, it will be impossi- 
ble for you not to pay a suitable deference unto the 
itnessage he brings, though it should encroach upon 
your fustS, or reprove particular parts of your eon- 
duct. 

&s touching worldly maintenance, my hrethren r 
you have no need 1 should say 1 much unto you : for 
yo rrselvcis know, that it is a maxim oi* our Lord, that 
" the laborer is worthy of his meat ;" and that it !j 
the role of his apostle, " that as they who served at 
the altar did lire by the altar/' so they who preach 
the gospel should live by the gospel. Brethren., if 
you should suffer your minister to entangle himself 
with the carking cares of this life, it were not only an 
injury done to him, but to your own selves. For, 
Bow should he give himself wholly to these things, 
which are the proper business of his calling, if the 
Cares of this lite should be suffered, through your 
negligence^ to divert ant] bis mind ? It is true 

indeed, ministers of the gospel must not be u greedy 
dogs (hat can never have enough. 5 * What pity is it, 
if any cc give occasion to ihe enemies of the Lord to 
blaspheme," by betraying a mercenary spirit, or cove- 
tous turn of mind, JSevertheiess, the micisier oi Je^ 



aus Christ <*ai* produce (if he were to insist upon it) 
only a civil, but a religious right unto his worldly 
rn: intenanee. Nor can it admit of the smallest doubt, 
that where there is a real esteem of the gospel, or 
any profiting by it, "he who is taught in the word, 
will communicate unto him that teacheth in all good 
things." But there is no occasion for me to insist ir- 
on this. 

Let nie farther exhort you, my brethren, that ye 
rather seek to profit by your minister, than to be fa- 
miliar with him. Do not mistake me ; I do not at 
all mean but you may and ought to be familiar with 
your minister, and he with you ; the meanest of you 
not excepted. But, there are some who pl<*ce a great 
deal more than they should, in being familiar with 
BfuniBters, never regarding whether their souls are 
prospering by the means of grace or not 5 and it is 
usual for such persons to make them unnecessary vi- 
sits, to the great wasting of their time. Time is the 
most precious of treasures ; and it is much to be re- 
gretted, that we should suffer such large portions of it 
to lie idle, and without any improvement. But minis- 
ters' time is still more precious than any other per- 
son's whose work is not so important. And therefore, 
christian prudence, doubtless, will direct you to make 
your visits short, when you have not some particular 
thing to talk about. 

Prayer for your minister is another duty I would 
earnestly recommend unto you. " Brethren, pray for 
him, that utterance may be given unto him that he 
may open his mouth boldly, and make known the 
mystery of the gospel, as he ought to speak." His 
Work is difficult, and there is no doubt but he will 
meet with various trials and discouragements in the 
faithful discharge of his office. On this account he is 
entitled to your prayers for him, always when you 
pray for yourselves. Besides, if he act suitable to his 
profession and character (as there is ground to hope 
will be the case) he will pray for you, and you ought in 
return, to pray for hinj. The better it fares with your 



274 

minister's soul, your own edification will he the more 
promoted. When, therefore, you pray for him, you 
are upon the matter praying for yourselves, and agent- 
ing your own cause. There are many unrufy and 
vain talkers, who make no other improvement of the 
ordinances on which they attend, but to censure or 
applaud the speaker. As to praying for the minister 
4< with all prayer and supplication," they are utterly 
unacquainted with it. — Alas t they cannot pray for 
themselves; how can they pray for another! But, 
my brethren, let it not be so among you. Pray with- 
out erasing. When you pour out your spirits to God 
in prayer, it is likely thai God Will pour out his Spirit 
to you in hearing. — See, that for the performance of 
every duty, } T e make constant believing improvement 
of Christ Jesus th-e Lord, whom we preach. " The Lord 
make ycu to increase and abound in love, one towards 
another.' 7 

" And, finally, my brethren, I commend you to 
God, and to the word of his grace, that is able to build 
you up, and to give you an inheritance among them 
that are sanctified." — Amen. 



fikis.. 



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